


Killing Two Birds with One Stone

by writerseventeen



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Established Leo/Cris, It's mainly James/Neymar, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4643460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerseventeen/pseuds/writerseventeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cris decides to setup James and Neymar. He convinces Leo it's a good idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Setup

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so because of the ending of my last fic, if you didn’t read it it’s not really neccesary because the cris/ leo in this story are not a continuation of the same couple, but in the ending Neymar’s asked about James Rodriguez and a few people commented asking me to write a fic about them. At first I wasn’t, but then I couln’t get them out of my head and there’s like zero fics about them so I started writing this story about them two because they’re real cute. Also the cris and leo in this story are already in an established relationship so yeah, enjoy!

James Rodriguez works really goddamned hard. Whether it’s at practice, the games, or even outside the pitch, James is just a hard worker.

Cris had immediately taken a liking to the Columbian when he first arrived at the Real Madrid training fields because he saw the willingness to work in his eyes, and if Cris respects anything above all, it’s ‘hard work.’ Because Cris personally knows what it’s like to work hard, like really hard.

He wouldn’t be where he is today without it and he knows the results it gets those, who are willing to put in the effort. Many critics consider him a “trained product” rather than something ‘natural’ but fuck them because hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard.

Currently Cris is stretching in a ‘supposed to be’ circle with Ramos and Marcelo. He’s stretching his hamstring and watching Rodriguez from across the pitch because Cris can goddamned multi- task.

The kid’s only in his early twenties but the intensity of his eyes makes him look like he’s been playing pro for decades. Whenever he loses the ball the ‘lip pout of determination’ (what Cris and Ramos calls it) sets in and the young Columbian will ruthlessly fight back for the ball until he gets it.

Cris is almost ninety four percent positive that the kid can’t feel pain either. There have been countless times where James has been slapped, tripped, pushed and trampled on and has jumped right back up as though he hadn’t just been seriously physically assaulted. He always just keeps playing, non- stop, day after day, week after week: always on the grind.

And Cris sees part of himself in James which is why he likes him so much. But he also sees the destructive part of himself in James which is the ‘over working’ part, and Cris decides that it’s time for some much sought over Cristiano Ronaldo advice because Cris knows where that type of constant working will get you. And the answer is in the hospital and then in bed for three months watching your teammates play without you on your 120 inch flat screen. It’s not a fun time.

 Cris stands up and shakes out his legs a bit before jogging over to where half of his team is playing seven v. seven. He watches for a moment before rounding the cones and going over right to where James is standing. James gives him a little nod before redirecting his attention towards the game. Cris suddenly pulls on James’s penny and pulls him out of the grid. James loses his footing a bit before righting himself clumsily.

“Cris what are you doing?” asks James with a slight hint of annoyance. He is a bit out of breath and he reaches up to wipe away the sweat dripping in his eyes.

“Um, what are you doing?”

“I was practicing because you know, we’re at practice and stuff.”

“Isn’t this your week off?” asks Cris raising his left eyebrow.

“Um, well I-,” began James, fumbling over his words. Because he knew very well that his coach had told him with a ‘no exceptions’ tone four days ago that James was, “not to come to training for the next week. You need a break kid; we don’t want you hurting yourself.” 

James could do nothing but force out a polite “okay” and hang up, frowning. He hadn’t been given a break in nine months, which was totally fine. James hated sitting around and doing nothing. Whenever he sat around for too long, he got this itch in his fingers that would travel down to his toes and back up again. He felt jumpy and twitchy and couldn’t stop the feeling till he trained it out of his system.

James knew he was breaking some kind of rule here by coming but he couldn’t help it. Football was just something that he always needed to be doing. 

“James,” asserted Cristiano looking at him with dark and serious eyes, you need to take a break.”

“Why?” blurted out James. He knew he shouldn’t question what Cris said because he was their captain, but James honestly didn’t see how not taking a break was a problem, because as long as James was working he was getting better. And James was a hundred percent sure that that wasn’t a sin.

“Because you’re going to hurt yourself,” supplied Cris simply.

“No I’m not. I’m fine. I feel great.”

“You say that now until you over work a tendon and are left sitting out for three months.”

“Relax Cris that’s not going to happen.”

“It happens to every player, especially players like you that never give themselves the time to rest and recover.”

“I rest.”

“Bullshit.”

“No really I do! I go home after training and-,”

“Okay yes you go home from training and take a hot shower and go to sleep. But that’s not really

‘rest’ because then you wake up at seven the next day and train for seven hours and then you go home and do it all over again.”

“You do the same, we all do.”

“Yes, but we all take our breaks when they’re given to us. We take our time to rest our muscles and our minds, to slow down once in a while.”

“I don’t get why though cause I feel fine-,”

“Look James, I know that it’s tough when you’re young. I know that you feel like you have a lot to prove and you always have to be bettering yourself. I know that you feel like you can’t stop because if you do you’ll set yourself back. I get that okay? I was the same way. But you got to take breaks James, you have to. This may come off as really annoying and un- necessary but it’s really important that you do. Trust me,” finished Cris assertively.

But the way Cris’ eyes softened and shoulders slackened emanated a sense of indisputable sincerity and experience. James knew he was defeated.

“Ok. I won’t argue with you,” spoke James quietly, scuffing his right cleat against the turf in frustration.

Cris clapped him hard on his back and slid his hand up to cup James’s face quickly, giving it a little squeeze, before dropping his hand. James could only force out a tight smile before reverting it back to a frown. Cris smiled down at him a bit sadly.

James being sad just didn’t look right for some reason. He was one of the most positive, sweet, and genuine people Cris had ever met and seeing that person looking like a kicked puppy was taking years off of Cris’ life.

Cris decided to change the subject.

“How are things with you and that girl?”

“Huh?” asks James looking up, tilting his head a bit.

“Weren’t you seeing someone? She was tall, I remember.”

“Oh Daniela,” supplied James a bit hesitantly.

“That’s the one,” sounded Cris snapping his fingers at James.

James ran a hand through his dark hair before dropping it at his side with a sigh.

“She um, ended it with me,” answered James, voice growing quieter near the end.

“Oh, sorry to hear that,”

“Yeah she got real upset with me at the end.”

“Why’s that?”

“She um… told me I worked too much and was never around,” finished James. He was staring pointedly at a spot near his cleats. His eyes were dark and contemplative as realization dawned upon him.

“I really do work too much don’t I?”

 “I admire your work ethic really, said Cris sympathetically, but yes you’re a bit too over invested at some times.”

James sighs again before dragging a hand down his face, pulling at the skin.

“Ok fine maybe I do need to take a break but I-,” began James before stopping abruptly. Because he suddenly realized something, and he instantly became very embarrassed.

“You don’t know what to do, do you?” asked Cris, saying exactly what James had realized.

James just nodded his head slowly, looking away. He felt pathetic. Honestly he was twenty four, young, and attractive and completely lacking a social life. A social life: outside of soccer that is. He had lots of friends on the team sure, but most were a lot older than him and saw him more as a little brother than a close friend. His friends from outside of soccer had grown distant as James’s career demanded most of his attention and allotted little room for other relationships.

See this is why James didn’t like taking time off because it made him think too much about other problems. Problems that James liked to push aside and pretend didn’t exist.

“Yep, pretty much. It’s sad I know,”

“Well good thing I’ve already taken care of that for you,” added Cris waving his hand over his shoulder as he walked away.

James’s head snapped up.

“Wait! What?” demanded James as he jogged to catch up with his older team mate.

Cris just smiled knowingly before breaking into a run.

* * *

 

 

**Three Weeks Earlier**

 “Cris I’m worried about him,” Leo’s concerned voice filtered through the phone a bit fuzzy.

“One sec babe I’m not getting good reception in here,” replied Cris, sliding open his hotel balcony door and stepping outside. His bars went up.

“Sorry Leo, what was that?”

“I said I’m worried about him.”

“Him… being Neymar?”

“Yeah, he got himself injured pretty badly yesterday.”

“What’d the moron do?”

“Hey, scolded Leo, he’s not a moron. He’s just… a very rash person is all.”

“So he’s a moron?”

“Shut up Cris, chided Leo, did you see what happened?”

“Yeah, I saw it on TV.”

“He’s going to be out for a good two months, at least.”

“Yeah, hamstring injuries are a bitch to get rid of.”

“I knew I should have forced him to take it easy. I saw him stretching it out more and more each practice; I knew something was up. But I didn’t and now he’s out for the beginning of the season,” finishes Leo sighing.

Cris knew Leo was blaming himself. He does that too much.

“Babe, you know that Neymar getting hurt wasn’t in any way, shape or form your fault right?”

“But I could’ve done something to stop it… I could’ve told him to take a break but he told me he didn’t need one.”

 “Well then that’s his fault. All younger players are like that Leo you know that.”

“I know, I know. I just feel like I’m a shitty captain is all.”

Cris knew that Leo was probably pacing around his room, barefoot, with sweatpants hanging low off his narrow waist and running his hands through his hair repeatedly, a tick he does whenever he’s frustrated.

Leo had always felt the pressure of being captain, while feeling honored to be picked by his team mates; he didn’t feel like he deserved it. He was never been much of a leader and he knew that, but he tried so damn hard for his team.

Cris wishes he could be there with Leo to wrap him in his arms and pull him close against his chest, while leaning down and pressing soft kisses against Leo’s forehead. He wishes he could be there to comfort him. God, he hates being so far away all the time.

“Don’t doubt yourself Leo. You do your best and you can’t blame yourself for everything.”

“I know… I just, I can’t help it, says Leo sadly, I thought with Neymar being injured and everything he’d take a break you know, go rest and relax somewhere. But instead he shows up every morning and just sits and watches the team train with this empty stare and it drives me crazy.”

“Why don’t you send him away somewhere?”

“He wouldn’t go,”

“Convince the club to make him, they can send players away to recover if it is health related.”

“That’s so messed up, the way they own us like that.”

“True, but it’s not so bad. I got injured a couple years ago and I still tried showing up to training every day despite my knee feeling like it was popping out of my skin, and eventually management got tired of me re-injuring myself so they sent me to a recovery place in Costa Rica.”

“Did it help?”

“A lot actually, I had kind of forgotten what it was like to be a normal person. I mean this was like five years ago and I was always pushing myself so hard and going so fast all the time that I didn’t know what slowing down felt like anymore. But being away from all that for a while helped me not only recover faster, but it renewed my love for the game. It helped me realize that I was pushing myself too hard for all the wrong reasons, to impress people, to get richer, to get more famous. I had forgotten why I started playing football in the first place.”

“Which was?”

“Because I love it,” finishes Cris with a big, cheesy smile on his face.

That realization was a turning point in his career. It helped him find himself again and gave him a real purpose, which he could feel proud about.

Leo laughed a bit on the other end, smiling wide. When Leo first met Cris, it was hard to see anything true under the surface; Cris, as charismatic as he was, never really talked about his insecurities, problems, or anything important. After months of being together and Leo’s unwavering patience, Cris had finally started opening up about his struggle with identity and purpose in his career. When he realized Leo had nothing but comfort and support to offer, Cris had relaxed and now conversation between them was easy and seamless. And suddenly Leo wishes he didn’t have to be so far away all the time.

“Well okay, but if I bring up the idea to the club, I have to think of the appropriate place to send him.”

“Tell me, does Neymar have a girlfriend?”

“No, replied Leo a bit confused, he used to but she apparently broke it off a couple months ago.” “Commitment issues I’m guessing.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to find someone who understands.”

“Good thing that’s not the case for us.”

“Agreed,”

There was a long silence from the other end and Leo was wondering if the connection had broken.

“Cris? Did I lose you?”

“No I was just thinking about something,” commented Cris airily.

“What’s that?”

“I think we can kill two birds with one stone.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Ugh Leo, you’re so thick sometimes. I was trying to be mysterious.”

“You succeeded because I have no idea what that means.”

Cris just sighs on the other end.

“It means that we can solve two problems with one solution.”

“Two problems? It’s only Neymar.”

“And James,” adds Cris.

“What’s wrong with Rodriguez? Real Madrid’s golden boy.”

“No that’s me.”

“You’re like their golden man,”

“That was a subpar recovery…and the problem is he works too much. I don’t know how many times we’ve told him to take a break. He won’t do it, and I’m afraid he’s going to hurt himself. He’s just pushing himself so hard lately and I’m afraid he’s going to burn out too soon and get sick of it all.”

“So how are we going to kill two birds with one stone?” asks Leo, completely not catching onto what Cris is saying.

“They’re like going through the same problems.”

“Yeah,”

“They’re around the same age,”

“Mhm,”

“They both have commitment issues,”

“Okay,”

“They both have hectic schedules,”

“Right,”

“They’re both recently single,”

“Cris, where is this heading?”

“Do you seriously not get what I’m implying right now?”

“…No.”

“Oh my god, we send both of them to the same recovery place and they can help each other sort out their problems; _Together._ ”

“Ohh because they’re so similar and stuff,”

“Yes Leo, yes,” face palms Cris.

“Okay.”

There’s a drawn out silence as Cris waits for Leo’s opinion on this. He soon realizes there probably won’t be one.

“So, do you think it’s a good idea?” asks Cris a bit impatiently. There’s another silence, followed by the sound of Leo shuffling around his room.

“Wait, says Leo as the gears in his head finally start moving, are you saying… that you want to setup James and Neymar? Like set them up romantically? As in a more than friendly way?”

“Don’t tell me they wouldn’t make a great couple.”

“I mean, do you think they would like each other?”

“They’re literally the same person except one is a moron and one isn’t. They have so much in common and they’re both not ugly. How can they not like each other?”

“I don’t know isn’t-,”

“And we both know what the deciding factor is here Leo,” interrupts Cris, a serious tone overtaking the conversation, “It’s the same one that made us work.”

“Oh, begins Leo, the fact that they’re both-,”

“ _Lonely._ Yes.”

Leo goes quiet and so does Cris. Both knew that that’s where they found comfort in each other’s presence the most. It was the fact that whenever they were together they had a person to confide in, a shoulder to lean on, and a bed to share. Being a professional athlete, doesn’t allow for much free time. And being in the industry for so long had made both Leo and Cris forget what it was like to care for someone, besides themselves.

In their professional careers, ‘being the best’ was a label of success as well as an immense pressure they both shared. While their fame and popularity attracted a lot of people, it wasn’t the type of ‘people’ they could trust. They were all nameless and faceless, blending together into a mob of attention seekers and fame chasers.

“Okay, says Leo quietly, I think we should do it.”

“So you think it’s a good idea?”

“Yes Cris, like you said, killing two birds with one stone.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neymar wakes up James. It's not love at first sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, schools got me really busy. So yes, James and Neymar actually interact in this chapter but not in the way you might think...

 James had received an email from Real Madrid two days ago, addressing his departure for a private rehabilitation center in Costa Rica. Attached was his printable plane ticket for their club owned jet that would be taking off from the Barcelona Airport. He had arrived in Barca yesterday and had one night of good sleep before having to wake up at five a.m. to catch his flight.

Cris had texted him something like, ‘have fun!!!’ with a lot of emoticons at the end but James couldn’t will himself to text back. Honestly, he recognized that Cris was doing this to help him, but he didn’t know he was going to actually be sent away. He didn’t even know how long he was going to be there for; he didn’t even know why he was going in the first place.

James had gotten to the airport at four thirty in the morning and picked up a banana on his way to the terminal. He wasn’t used to waking up _this_ early and he was in the middle of peeling it before he remembered, ‘What the hell? I hate bananas.’ and throwing it away feeling wasteful.

By the time James was on the small, empty, fourteen seat plane, he was in a grumpy mood. He was hungry and tired and had just wasted a banana. Everything was bugging him. To make matters worse, James had checked his phone and it was already ten past five. One of the stern looking flight attendants was speaking on the plane’s telephone, most likely to the pilot. Was there bad weather, or something?

James had caught a few words from the conversation such as “can’t leave,” and “we’ll have to wait.” James just assumed it was for the weather and took this time to pull out his small, pillow from his carry on and squish it against the window before resting his head on it and dozing off.

Neymar was damned pissed. He was in such a shitty ass mood; in fact, he can’t remember a time he was in a worse mood. Not only was he being forced to watch his team win without him from the bench, and being denied entry to Camp Nou, his club was fucking _sending him away,_ for god knows how long.

They insisted it was for his wellbeing and health, but Neymar couldn’t help but feel like they were casting him aside. He felt useless. Leo had tried to comfort him, as he was the one that broke the news to him, but not even Leo’s gentle reassurance had been enough to comfort him. Neymar had given a lot to the club in the past couple of years and he couldn’t believe how passive they were being towards him. ‘I mean really, they’re sending _me_ away?’

It wasn’t the time to be sent on some frilly, relaxing vacation. It was the time for Neymar to be fucking _working._ It drove him up the wall day and night as he lay in his bed forbidden to move too much. This season was filled with so much promise for him, his ‘supposed’ breakout season. He was young and one of the best in the world. Everyone was talking about how important the beginning of this season was for him and yet, he had to go and pull his hamstring in a fucking preseason match. ‘Fuck.’

Neymar had groggily woken up at four forty five this morning and then took a long hot, shower. When he got out it was already five fifteen and it’s not like anyone else was going; so they’d have to wait for him. He blow dried his hair before throwing on a grey t-shirt and a pair of tight fitting jeans, and of course a black snapback.

When he finally arrived at the airport it was already six, and Neymar was kind of hoping they had cancelled his plane.

Alas, he got to the terminal and the attendants had hastily rushed him onto the still very present plane. He took long slow steps down the entry hallway and when he passed through the doorway he instantly flung his duffel onto the first seats he saw. The seats were blue and leather and looked ridiculously comfy.

The plane was empty except for the one stringent looking flight hostess who was giving him a long glare. Neymar flopped down onto the second row seats, feeling her gaze hot on his neck. She mumbled something into the phone and a few minutes later Neymar could feel the vibrations of the plane’s engine and they were taking off down the runway. Neymar liked flying, he was used to it. He sprawled out across the two seats and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep.

Neymar didn’t know how long he had been asleep for. It was light outside now where it had been dark when he boarded the plane at six. The clouds looked white and perfect from above and Neymar felt lighter as watched them float by.

But then Neymar remembered that he hadn’t peed since last night and suddenly he felt very heavy. The bathroom was at the back of the plane, and Neymar hoisted himself up. He stood up a bit too quickly though and his hamstring stung with pain. He just gritted his teeth and held it a bit as he awkwardly limped towards the restroom, but then he saw it.

Down at the very end of the hallway, was a sneaker clad foot hanging off the end of the seat.

“Huh?” thought Neymar.

He didn’t think there was anyone else on the plane except him, the attendant, and the pilot. It was supposed to be a private flight. Who else could be on it? And why were they going to the same place? Neymar reached the last row and was shocked to see who it was.

It was none other than James fucking Rodriguez, the Madridista, and Real Madrid’s golden boy. Why the fuck was he on this plane? Neymar didn’t know the Columbian that well. Obviously their only interactions had been at games and that’s about it. He was a pretty good football player that’s for sure. He was kind of a mystery to Neymar; in fact, he was kind of a mystery to everyone. As far as Neymar knew, James was a relatively quiet person and didn’t show off or talk about himself too much.

As for Neymar, well… he had a loud personality. He was sociable and obnoxious at times but he did take his career very seriously and he didn’t want people to doubt that. He just wanted people to like him while he did it.

Neymar didn’t know what to do at this point. Did he wake him up? Ask him what he was doing here? Curiosity was overtaking his body and he really wanted to know.

But _God._

Neymar felt pathetic for admitting this but James looked way too fucking adorable to be woken up, like, usually Neymar didn’t give a shit if you were a twelve year insomniac who finally learned to fall asleep again, he would wake you up if he felt like it. James’s long body was stretched out across the seats and he was lying on his back. One leg was propped up against the leather seats, while the other was extended straight, too long for the row. His right arm was resting on his chest, while the other rested on his abdomen. James’s head was lolled to the side and his dark hair was ruffled and mused. His lips were slightly parted and he looked so relaxed. If Neymar were being honest with himself, he’d confess that James was a fairly good looking guy. He had this really innocent, gentle looking face that looked like he would forgive you even if you killed his dog or sold him to the devil. It was _endearing_. He had a completely smooth complexion and his skin gave off almost a faint glow, but then again Neymar was tired as fuck and his vision probably wasn’t in complete working order.

* * *

 

James woke up to Neymar looking at him, or more like staring at him. He only had his left eye cracked open and the Barcelona player didn’t seem to notice his current waking state. This was… rather uncomfortable. Because first off, James didn’t know anyone else was on the plane, let alone freaking Neymar. Second off because what did he do? Did he pretend to go back to sleep? Wake up? What would he say? What would _he_ say? Would it be awkward? Oh, it would so be awkward. Third off, it was still sinking in that Neymar De Freaking Santos Jr. was staring down at his sleeping form, as if it was a completely normal thing to do. The whole situation was so bizarre, like what the fuck.

James decided it would be good to confront the situation now instead of never. He shut his eyes again and visibly shifted to let the Brazilian know he was “waking up.” When he slowly opened his eyes, Neymar hadn’t moved and was still just looking at him.

“Um, began James awkwardly, hey?”

James’s voice was hoarse and scratchy sounding. It always was after he woke up. He cringed on the inside. The Barca player just briefly squinted his green eyes at him, before speaking.

“What are you doing here?” asked Neymar plainly. His eyes clearly scanning over James’s body again. James really had no idea what the fuck was going on. His head was still groggy with sleep and he was looking up at Neymar from an awkward position. They were silent for a couple of seconds, before the Brazilian raised a perfectly angled eyebrow at him, waiting.

“Oh, I um… I’m on medical leave.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“That’s the confusing part. Nothing physically is wrong with me. Nothing is really wrong with me in the first place, I don’t even know what Cris told me was wrong with me-,”

“I lost you like five ‘wrongs’ ago,” interrupted Neymar. 

That kind of rubbed James the wrong way, like he was trying his hardest to make sense right now- after rudely being woken up by Neymar’s staring and ugh why was this happening?

“I said that I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Then why are you even here?”

“I just said I don’t know.”

There was an awkward silence after that. James didn’t know where the rude remark came from. He was typically a pretty polite person but Neymar was just being so rude. James heard the Brazilian was kind of hot headed and full of himself, but he tried not to judge people based on what he ‘heard.’

“Sorry, I’m just really tired. I um, nothing’s physically wrong with me but I’m being sent away because I’m apparently very ‘prone to injury,’” explained James in what he hoped was a more friendly tone.

“So they’re sending you away cause you’re a try hard.”

James widened his eyes a bit in surprise before visibly frowning. James frowning just didn’t look right; it pulled all his features downwards, his eyebrows, the corners of his eyes, his lips, and he just looked much too un happy to be okay.

Neymar just tilts his head a bit waiting, the tiniest upturn of his mouth apparent and that pissed James off. Why the hell was Neymar being such a dick right now? Like he didn’t even know James at all, like why is he being so obnoxious?

“Um, no it’s because I’m prone to injury.”

“Yeah, agreed Neymar nodding his head once, which basically means you’re a try hard. Like if you’re prone to injury that just means you’re trying too hard.”

“It doesn’t but okay.”

“Yeah, it kind of does,”

“Dude what the hell is your problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re being such a…”

 “Such a what? Didn’t catch that last part,” quipped Neymar leaning closer to James and tapping a finger to his ear.

“Just please go away,” sighed James moving to pull on his headphones.

“What? Golden boy can’t handle a little criticism?”

James scoffed.

“Like you would? All you get is people stroking your ego. What the hell would you know about criticism?”

 “Um what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

James just glared at him and leaned back against his seat.

“It’s not worth it to try to explain it to you,”

“You don’t know jack shit about me, Rodriguez.”

 “I’ve heard enough about you,”

“Yeah, like what?”

“Honestly, I don’t feel like arguing about something so stupid right now, just leave me alone.”

“Alright alright, fine,” finished Neymar rolling his eyes.

Neymar turned back around towards the bathroom and continued his awkward limp there. He could sense that James was watching him and he just lifted his arm to flick him off. He heard an amused huff of laughter before hearing James settle back against the seats.

When Neymar was finally inside the restroom, he just sank down onto the closed toilet seat and ran his frustrated hands through his hair. God, this trip was going to be hell with James being there but not for the reasons he wanted.

Neymar had always been annoying to people he ‘liked’ ever since he was a teenager. It was just his natural response. Instead of flirting or making small talk, Neymar had to turn to immediate hostility it was kind of like his social shield. God, Neymar didn’t even mean to be that rude but things had just slipped out. Neymar knew he was fucked when he saw James’s eyes flutter open and look into his. He was so goddamned sweet and genuine at first, stumbling over his words while his hair was all ruffled, but of course Neymar had to be a dick.

He couldn’t even apologize because what was he apologizing for?

_Sorry I as mean to you James, I just do that whenever I like someone.”_

            ‘Fuck,’ thought Neymar squeezing his face in his hands. He had a fucking crush on James Rodriguez.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah James and Neymar don't have an immediate connection but i thought that seemed more interesting than a sudden magical love chemistry and who doesn't love a hate to love fic? They gotta differentiate from Leo and Cris's relationship somehow haha, please comment and tell me what you think!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neymar and James have a heart to heart, kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to update! Please enjoy this chapter where James and Neymar actually aren't hostile towards eachother lol

The plane finally arrives in Costa Rica some eight hours later. After the less than friendly interaction between both players, the rest of the flight was spent in relative silence. James had ‘fallen back asleep’ when Neymar exited the bathroom and Neymar put his headphones on before dozing off again.

The flight attendant had rather harshly shaken him awake, muttering something like ‘get up we’re here,’ under her breath. Harsh light streamed in through the plane’s now ajar door and Neymar blinked drearily against the intensity. When his vision cleared, the first thing he saw was a pair of calculating eyes looking down at him. They were brown and pretty and James’s. Ugh, this wasn’t a dream?

When James realized Neymar was awake, he quickly looked away and exited through the door. There was a car there to take them to the recovery center. It was a sizable blacked out range rover, and James scoffed at how predictable that was. His luggage was hauled away into a separate car as was Neymar’s.

The Brazilian had exited the plane a few minutes after James and he looked miserable as he attempted to get down the steps with his hamstring in so much pain. He bit his bottom lip to keep from letting out pained noises, while his right arm clutched the back of his injured leg. James felt a pang of guilt for being so rude to the injured Brazilian, who was probably just in a bad mood because of his leg. But then again James didn’t really want to apologize; he had just been defending himself after all.

But still… maybe he’d apologize later when the tension died away.

When Neymar had finally made it down the steps a few airport workers immediately rushed to help him but he just shook his head and smiled at them politely, refusing.

Neymar had finally made it over to the car but right as he lifted his hand to the cars handle he let out a strangled noise of pain before kneeling over, clutching his leg.

“Jesus Christ,” seethed Neymar, scrunching up his eyes.

James couldn’t help it. He hated seeing people in pain. He jogged over to the other side of the vehicle and saw Neymar bent over in agony.

“Hey, are you okay?” asked James a bit tentatively.

“Does it look like I’m fucking okay?”

“No.”

“Well there’s your answer,”

James just stood there quietly.

“Oh my god, just come over here and help me stand up.”

James took three quick steps forward before bending down and sliding his right arm around Neymar’s waist and his other against the Brazilian’s abdomen to support him. Neymar just glanced down at James’s arm around his waist, before back up to his face. Their faces were only mere inches apart and Neymar could see the subtle freckles scattered across James’s nose. ‘ _That’s not cute, that’s not cute,’_ repeated Neymar’s subconscious.

“Um, are you good to stand?”

Neymar realized that he was still very much kneeling on the ground unresponsively as James had both arms wrapped around his body.

“Yeah fine,”

Neymar slung his left arm around James’s neck while still holding his leg, as James began to slowly stand up. Inch by inch, Neymar’s hamstring gradually straightened out and eventually he was standing straight up again.

“Are you okay?”

The Brazilian only gave him a slight nod. If there was a slight flush to Neymar’s cheeks James couldn’t see it because Neymar suddenly disentangled himself from James. He opened the car door rapidly before getting inside.

“Why did I even expect a thank you?” muttered James as he walked over to his side. 

 

James had to admit, the recovery place was really, very nice. It was nestled on some private beach a couple miles away from town and was somehow over the top in luxury, yet cozy and familiar at the same time.

When they arrived Neymar was quickly ushered out of the car by two employees wearing blue polos and khaki pants. When Neymar insisted he didn’t need help, the two polos just pushed him into a wheelchair before whisking him inside. James chuckled a bit at Neymar’s stubborn pouty face.

The Brazilian was really injured though thought James. He heard Neymar had been hurt in preseason, but didn’t realize the severity of it. Being injured was undoubtedly the worst thing to happen to an athlete. Being an athlete, one’s whole career relied on the condition of their bodies and to not have your body in tip top shape could mess with your entire life.

Cris’ advice about overworking leading to injury suddenly repeated itself in his mind and James suddenly felt grateful to be here. He knew he was on the cusp of injury but he couldn’t make himself stop training. He realized he had an obsessive work ethic, but James couldn’t help it. He had always had to work for what he wanted, and now that he had what he wanted; he believed he had to work twenty four seven to maintain it.

James was led into the main building, which was two stories of fancy athletic equipment and multiple rooms filled with specialized trainers/ healers ready to help.  Everyone seemed nice enough since they were experienced with assisting footballers. Many professional clubs sent their injured players here to recover, not just Madrid and Barcelona.

After being given a tour of the entire building, one of the workers, Isabella, led him to a separate building where he would be staying in. It was big enough for more than one person but it was comfortable enough.

His bags had already been carried in and were resting at the foot of his bed. James feeling tired and jet lagged flopped onto the bed, legs and arms spread wide. He felt relaxed and fatigued. He lay on the bed, eyes closed, for a few minutes. But then it got too quiet.

The room was too empty, too noiseless. The only sounds were his deep breaths and the rustle of the sheets as James sat up. It reminded him too much of his room back in Madrid, where the only sounds were James’s breathing and the rustle of the sheets late at night.

Nowadays he wished desperately he could find someone to fill the empty space beside him each night. But he’d tried with many, but all left him for the same reason: commitment issues. After Daniela, James had resigned himself to stop trying because he was convinced it would end the same way. He supposed he’d have to wait until he retired and settled down. But _God_ that was depressing to think about.

This place wasn’t helping. James suddenly felt the itch to move. He needed to get out of this empty room pronto. James flung his duffel onto the bed and searched through it until he found a pair of athletic shorts and sneakers. He decided to skip the shirt and within a minute he was outside and sprinting down the beach. The burn of his calves felt amazing, and the wind whooshing past him felt exhilarating. He could feel the hot rays of the sun burning his bare back but he didn’t care.

James continued to run for what felt like miles. He had no idea how far he’d gone as the ocean and sand blended together into one invariable scenery. His eyes were blinded with sweat and his lungs felt heavy with every breath. He turned around and began to run back.

Neymar had just come out of two hours of brutal stretching and stem treatment. His hamstring felt thoroughly abused. It bewildered him how injuries required immense amounts of ‘pain’ to get better. Because Neymar never thought that he would be flexible enough to pull his leg up near his ear, but a determined, sturdy woman of Spanish descent named Maria had proved him wrong.

Neymar never knew stretching could be so painful, yet so satisfying at the same time. He had gone back to his little bungalow thing to un- pack his bags. But the sun was out and Neymar suddenly just wanted to lie down and relax. There were lounge chairs scattered along the beach and Neymar stripped his shirt before easing down on to one. He decided to close his eyes and bask in the sun. At least he could get a decent tan during his ‘recovery.’

James saw the familiar outline of the recovery center come into view after a while of running back. As he got closer and closer he could see someone lying out on the beach in front of the residences.

It was Neymar and _shit._ James had jogged close enough that he could see every detail on the Brazilian’s body and _shit._ It was a known fact that Neymar was considered attractive by the majority of the football industry, and the majority of the world. But James had never really paid attention to the Brazilian’s looks. He never had occasion to but now he did and he couldn’t look away.

The sun’s rays were reflecting off Neymar’s tousled hair, illuminating his side profile. His hair was light brown in color with blonder streaks coursing through it; James wanted to run his hands through it, badly. His long eyelashes rested delicately against his cheeks, and his lips were slightly open and red from biting them.

Honestly, Neymar had a perfect face. It really wasn’t fair. His jawline was sharp and defined, eyebrows perfectly angled, and his Adams apple protruded enticingly as he tilted his head back against the chair. His body was long and deceptively strong, with lean muscles running along his calves, thighs, and arms. He had a gorgeously toned torso, abs visible under his thoroughly tanned skin.

James felt himself blushing embarrassed by his own thoughts. What had gotten into him? But then he remembered he hadn’t been with anyone since Daniela and that ended months ago. James appreciated beauty wherever it was, and it just so happened to be on a certain professional football player, who James was pretty sure hated him. Of course James had to be attracted to the only un- attainable person here.

‘ _No, I will keep this strictly professional for as long as we’re stuck here and then it’ll go away,’_ thought James, feeling satisfied with himself, but of course things don’t always go to plan.

* * *

 

Neymar heard the quick paced steps of someone walking passed him. They were kicking a bit of sand up onto his calves and he popped open one eye to see who it was. It was fucking James, of course it fucking was. Not only that, but it was _shirtless, sweaty_ James now that’s just not fair. His perfectly sculpted back was facing Neymar as the Columbian walked back towards his room. It was a good view, and Neymar would have been content to just admire from afar without embarrassing himself but sometimes words just fly out without his brain’s permission.

“Rodriguez!” called out Neymar. ‘ _Fuck fuck fuck, shit shit shit what am I doing?’_ internally screamed Neymar. James stopped and turned his head. His eyes were a bit wide, startled by being shouted at. He gave Neymar a quick, stiff nod before turning around again.

“Wait! James!”

James stopped again and visibly sagged his shoulders. He turned his head around slowly.

“Yes?” asked James with a much too polite tone.

“Um, what are you up to?” asked Neymar. _‘Fuck this is so awkward what am I doing?’_

James raised his eyebrows at Neymar’s attempt at conversation, before turning around fully.

“Um, not much… just went for a run,” replied James skeptically.

“Was it good?”

James just gave him a long look. Neymar was internally beating himself up.

“Uh yeah it was good.”

“Cool.”

There was an awkward silence after that. Neymar turned to blankly stare at the ocean, contemplating the quickest way to kill himself, and James just kicked up the sand under his toes.

“Oh I didn’t get a chance to ask you,” spoke James walking towards Neymar.

Neymar’s pulse sped up because he could see the ridges of James’s abs rippling as he walked closer.

“Um, about what?”  

“About how you’re feeling, you’re leg seemed really bad earlier. You know when I helped you up and stuff.”

James was standing about two feet away now and Neymar had to crane his head up to look at him. He was still lying down in the beach chair and James was standing awkwardly above him.

“Why don’t you sit?”

“Um okay,” said James nodding his head. He sat down across from Neymar in another beach chair. Neymar had to try really fucking hard not to just stare at the gorgeous body across from him.

“Well it’s alright now. The people here stretched the shit out of it, explained Neymar; I think I can nearly do a split.”

James laughed quietly before cupping a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at your injury, that’s not funny it’s just-,”

“Relax James. I didn’t think you were. It was supposed to be funny.”

“Right,”

“So nothing’s wrong with you, physically?

“Yeah… I don’t know exactly what I’m doing here. Forced vacation I guess.”

“Forced? Who forced you?”

“Madrid, and Cris especially,” answered James.

“You like the guy?” asked Neymar tilting his head.

“Who Cris? Yeah of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know just wondering. A lot of players don’t I guess. I just hear stuff about him is all… too much stuff.”

“What do you mean?”

Neymar sat up in his chair to face James.

“You get sick of it too right?”

“Sick of what?”

“You know the never ending lovey dovey shit between them two.”

“Um excuse me, what?”

“It gets so bad right? Especially when they don’t see each other for more than a month, I mean they’re always calling each other day and night. ‘I miss you so much babe,’ and ‘I can’t wait to see you again,’ ugh it’s nonstop.”

“Hold on a second, who the hell are you talking about?”

Neymar shut up immediately, his eyes widening a bit at James. He went from amused disbelief to genuine shock once James didn’t start laughing. He just sat there with his big round eyes, wholeheartedly confused.

“Oh my god, you mean… you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“I don’t know whether to feel bad for you or envy you.”

“What? Can you please just-,”

“Cause I mean on one hand you miss out on all the annoying love crap but on the other hand… fuck do you seriously not know?”

“Neymar, can you please just tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

“Leo and Cris,” stated Neymar, as if it were obvious.

“What about them?” asked James slowly.

“Fuck, James seriously?”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry I’m so clueless just tell me what the-,”

“They’re dating.”

James just stared unblinkingly at Neymar, his mouth hanging open, speechless. After a moment, he began to smile a bit, thinking the Brazilian was just kidding; but the longer he stared at Neymar’s very serious face, the less funny it got.

“W-wh-what? Are you serious? You can’t be serious. Leo and Cris? Cristiano is dating Lionel Messi. What the fuck, seriously? Don’t joke with me.”

Neymar began to laugh, throwing his head back and cackling loudly.

“I’m not, laughed out Neymar, I’m not joking with you!”

“Oh. My. God. This isn’t real.”

“It’s very real. It’s so real.”

“What the fuck? For how long?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. But I know it’s been awhile, like more than a year.”

“More than a… more than a year?” spluttered James eyes widening in shock.

“Yep, oh c’mon you’ve never heard them dirty talking over the phone?”

James just stared at Neymar unblinkingly.

“Um no, I have not.”

“Lucky bitch,”

“I can’t believe this. I’m going into shock.”

“Why?”

“Cause Cristiano Ronaldo is _dating_ Lionel Messi. Is that not shocking to you?”

“Well it was at first, but I’m pretty used to it now.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be used to it,”

“They make sense though… if you think about it.”

“How so?”

“I mean they have so much in common and they just seem to understand each other. I don’t really know… but whenever Leo tells me about him he just sounds so… happy I guess.”

“That’s good,”

“Yeah, I mean I would be happy too if I could find someone that wants to be with me for more than a month but,” ended Neymar shrugging his shoulders. He tried to come off as indifferent but the way he bit his lip and looked away after, told James he was actually upset about it. And James got kind of sad too, because _same._

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Yeah?” asked Neymar looking at James.

“I was in a relationship with this girl awhile ago but she ended it with me not soon after cause I… worked too much.”

“That’s how it always ends.”

“True.”

Both players were silent for a few seconds as they thought about what to say next. It ended up being Neymar who spoke, once again without his brain’s permission.

“I haven’t been with anyone for such a long time,”

James was just quiet.

“Like, that’s definitely part of the relationship aspect you can’t help but miss,” continued Neymar.

James nodded his head in agreement.

“I agree, and I can’t just have sex with random people. I’ve tried… but it feels wrong,” answered quietly in response.

“Yeah, I feel like they don’t really want _me._ You know?”

“Yeah, sometimes I think that I won’t ever find anyone. At least not till I retire.”

“That’s a long ways away.”

“I know.”

There was another silence. James had his eyes downcast on the sand beneath his toes, frowning a bit, and Neymar was just looking at him contemplating. It was really sad that James believed that. He was so considerate of others he was willing to stay single until he could finally settle down and commit. Fuck, why was he so damn nice.

‘ _Should I say it? Should I say it? Fuck it I’m going to say it.’_

“Maybe you don’t have to wait that long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and tell me what you think!!! Thanks love to all whose reading(:


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're both just too attractive for their own good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken me forever to update, again school has got me so busy ugh. But please enjoy this chapter, it's a bit shorter, but it took me quite a while to write. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out enjoy!!

_“Maybe you don’t have to wait that long.”_

Neymar didn’t know where the fuck that came from. He had his bottom lip worried between his teeth and was trying exceptionally hard to not just get up and run away. James hadn’t said anything yet. He was just looking at Neymar with those soft brown eyes, his head tilted slightly. Neymar glanced away quickly when he caught James’s eye turning to look at the ocean instead.

It was nearly six and the sun was setting over the horizon. No longer did it burn bright white, instead emanating a calming orange glow. The waves were lapping gently against the shore and the rhythm would’ve been relaxing in any other circumstance, except this one. Because Neymar was staring a bit too hard at the waves, and holding his breath for a bit longer than an average person should. He ran a hand through his hair and down his neck and took a deep breath in. He turned to say something but that’s of course when James decided to speak.

“I hope not,” said James quietly.

Neymar whipped his head up, surprised by the sound of James’s tentative voice.

His head was faced downwards towards the sand but he was looking up at Neymar through his lashes. The sun’s reflection was creating these attractive shadows on James’s face, highlighting his cheekbones and capturing the vibrant color of his eyes. His lips were turned upwards into a slight smile. He almost looked playful, and decidedly _not_ innocent. Neymar gulped.

“Um yeah, I hope so too.”

“Are you hoping for yourself or are you hoping for me?” asked James, smile still playing at his lips.

Neymar was having a tough time forming words under James’s intense stare so he attempted to look at his nose, which nope that didn’t work cause the Colombian had the cutest freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. He tried looking at his mouth but fuck nope, because James had the fullest, softest looking lips ever. So he tried focusing on the Madridista’s neck but _fuck no_ , because James’s neck was long, smooth, and pale; just begging for Neymar to suck marks into it. ‘ _Fuuuuckkk.’_ Neymar didn’t dare look any lower than that because the Columbian was still shirtless and he really didn’t want to get a hard on in these thin swim shorts. He couldn’t remember the last time he was _this_ attracted to someone. It was all so sudden and Neymar wasn’t good with sudden.

And it kind of freaked him out a bit. He had already said a lot of stupid fucking things now that he thought about it and he really didn’t want to stick around to embarrass himself further.

“Um, both I guess? Sorry but I have to go, I’m pretty tired,” explained Neymar quickly, standing up.

“Oh, um right,” said James looking a bit caught off guard. He too stood up quickly but that was a mistake because now he was only three inches away from Neymar’s face and Neymar could feel the heat coming off his body. James was a couple inches taller than him and he found himself looking directly at the Colombian's lips. After a few moments of silence James spoke.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to wait,” spoke James in a quiet tone.

“You shouldn’t force yourself to,” replied Neymar, locking eyes with the taller man. He wetted his lips nervously; James’s eyes visibly tracked the movement.

“I’m probably going to be stuck here for a while though,”

“Yeah…”

“Do you think I could find someone here?”

“I don’t know… you could.”

“I want someone that understands me though, someone who gets what I’m going through. I don’t think just any random stranger would get that.”

“You could just wait till you get back,”

“But I don’t want to wait.”

Neymar was focusing on keeping his breathing normal. He could feel his heart rate speed up and his pulse quicken. Being this close to James was doing things to his body that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He felt so unsure but giddy with anticipation, like his first time kissing a girl. But he wasn’t even kissing the man in front of him. He was literally just talking and it was _affecting_ him.

James was just looking at him quietly, waiting for the Brazilian to look up at him, which he didn’t because he was nervous as fuck. When Neymar felt a feather light touch to his neck his eyes snapped up to meet James’s. The Columbian was staring contemplatively down at where his fingers met Neymar’s skin, running his fingertips up and down slowly.

“What does this mean?” asked James, tracing along the lettering of Neymar’s tattoo.

Neymar shuddered a bit before speaking.

“Nothing lasts,” whispered Neymar, closing his eyes against the gentle touches.

“I like that,” murmured James, continuing his ministrations.

“Thanks,”

“Did it hurt?”

Neymar just nodded yes.

When Neymar felt the gentle touch of James’s lips to his neck he couldn’t help but moan quietly. He had been hoping that James was into him and finally feeling the Columbian touch him was exactly what he needed.

James tightened his grip on Neymar’s neck a bit, tilting it to the side before bringing his lips back onto the same spot, right above his tattoo. Neymar complied easily and tilted his head even more to give James more access.

James brought his left hand up to cup Neymar’s face, thumb running across his jawline. Neymar still had his eyes closed and head cradled in between the taller man’s hands. He felt so boneless and compliant under James’s hands; he just wanted to give in. James was kissing Neymar’s neck with slow, drawn out kisses. He traveled up to right behind Neymar’s ear, nipping at it a bit before coming back down again to his collarbone and sucking a mark into the tanned skin. Neymar just sighed contently, biting his lip.

Suddenly, James’s left hand descended down gripping Neymar’s hip and pulling him flush against the taller man. He felt the warmth of James’s skin against his and that smooth, muscled body pressing into his. He gasped, throwing his head back. James still held his hip firmly and pulled him even closer, sucking hard against Neymar’s neck.

“Fuck, breathed Neymar, what are we doing?”

His eyes were still closed; head tilted back, neck exposed. His head was only being held up by the insistence of James’s firm grip.

“I don’t really know,” exhaled James against Neymar’s skin- his lips brushing right below his jawline, “Do you want this?”

And _God_ did James really have to ask. Neymar sprang his head up and kissed James with the ferocity of a man who’s been touch starved for months. His hands were cupping the Columbian’s face, fingers spread wide against his cheeks. Their lips were rather harshly collided together by Neymar’s suddenness, and James was momentarily caught off guard before fluttering his eyes shut and deepening the kiss. It was all heat and roughness at first, following Neymar’s lead. The Brazilian was begging for entrance dragging his tongue against James’s bottom lip, before surging back into the kiss. James almost gave in, but he wanted it _slow._ He wanted to work up the younger man and frustrate him. Giving him just enough but not what he wanted.

He pulled back slowly and opened his eyes. What he saw nearly made him lose his resolve. The Brazilian’s lips were parted and wet from kissing. They were slightly pouted, upset at the lack of touch, and slightly swollen: red from the rough contact. The red of his lips stood out against his tanned skin, making them all the more enticing. Neymar was peering up at James through his eyelashes, strands of his blonde streaked hair falling out of place and down across his forehead. But _Christ_ those eyes. James didn’t even know that eyes could be sensual but the look Neymar was giving him made his throat tighten.

His eyes were sharp and focused, pupils dilated. The left one a vibrant green shadowed darkly by a lone strand of hair, while his right was illuminated by the dying light of the sun and was catching the rays beautifully.  James could see the flickers of gold behind his irises and specks of blue. James had never seen anybody as entrancing, and alluring as Neymar and he was mesmerized. The Brazilian just smirked a bit, a cocky upturn of his lips that would have any girl falling to their knees, but James just smiled in return and gripped Neymar’s waist, hard and leaned back in. He forced open the smaller man’s mouth with his tongue, which Neymar welcomed eagerly. He wrapped his arms around James’s neck, moaning quietly.

Neymar was making such pretty noises every time James would pull back momentarily to switch angles and he wanted to hear more of them. He wanted to hear them loud and unrestrained. James would’ve laid Neymar down on the sand right there and stripped them down until bare and caress the smooth, tanned skin of his thighs before sinking into him slowly. But they were still very much in public and very much in view of the recovery center; so James reluctantly pulled back and whispered,

“Inside?”

To which Neymar whispered, “Yes,” against his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes James and Neymar finally realize their attraction for eachother and get it on. I tried really hard to make this chapter feel very seamless and romantic, and their actions as seductive and sensual as possible haha let me know if i managed to accomplish any of that. And I surprisingly made James super bold in this chapter cause i feel that even though he's a cutey and innocent seeming, he'd be the one to initiate something cause despite Neymar's loud personality he's nervous around those he likes. Thanks for all whose reading!!! Comment and let me know what you think!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so my apologies because it has taken me FOREVER to post this and i've just been so busy lately so i'm so sorry for not getting this up sooner but please do enjoy the sexy time

After a short walk through the sand they reach James’s room and James, the gentleman he is, opens the door wide and gestures inside. Neymar steps into the night darkened room. There’s a cool breeze coming from his right where James had left a window open. He shivers a bit at the cool sensation against his skin. There’s silence for a moment and that’s enough time for Neymar to realize that he’s really fucking nervous.

He hadn’t had sex with anybody for months and he really didn’t want to fuck it up, but Neymar was a victim of overthinking and he stood paralyzed in the darkened room, insecurities creeping up on him.

That’s when Neymar felt a pair of warm hands encircle his waist and a firm body press against his backside. James gave a little tug and pulled Neymar flush against him. James’s arms were locked around Neymar’s waist, simply resting them against the Brazilian’s abdomen. He leant down to place his chin on Neymar’s shoulder and angled his head so he could whisper in his ear.

      “You look a little nervous, are you okay?”

      Neymar inhaled slowly through his nose then exhaled, willing himself to relax.

      “Yeah, I’m just… nervous.”

Neymar felt really pathetic admitting that out loud but there was something about James that made him feel like he wouldn’t be judged. James pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder before responding.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

James sounded just a bit hesitant and fuck that’s so not what Neymar wanted to happen.

“No, no, no not at all, I just-,” started Neymar closing his eyes and trying to think of the right words to say.

“I just… haven’t been with a guy… for a while,” continued Neymar, voice growing quieter near the end.

There was a momentary silence where James didn’t respond. He just continued to rest his head against Neymar’s shoulder, soft breaths ghosting over Neymar’s skin.

Then he nuzzled into the crook of Neymar’s neck, pressing soft kisses against the tender skin there and tightened his grip on the Brazilian’s waist. Neymar just melted against the sensations. His body immediately went lax against James’s comforting touch. 

“We can go slow,” whispered James kissing behind Neymar’s ear, “However slow you want. There’s no rush.”

Neymar just nodded and James took that as his que to get things started.

“Look at me,” whispered James.

Neymar turned his head slowly and James’s lips were immediately on his. James’s lips were soft and full but just a bit too gentle. James pulled back and dragged his lips over Neymar’s open mouth, lips catching on his bottom then top lip, Neymar moaned and brought up both his hands to cradle the sides of James’s face and pulled him closer. Neymar pulled back for a moment to swipe his tongue teasingly across James’s bottom lip. James let out a low moan before surging back up into the kiss. Neymar gasped at the suddenness and James took advantage, tongue quickly invading Neymar’s mouth.

Neymar responded eagerly, flicking his tongue against James’s playfully. James laughed a bit pulling away momentarily to re angle his face before pressing his lips back insistently against the Brazilian’s. James’s thumbs began to rub small circles into Neymar’s hip bones before growing more bold and smoothing them out all across Neymar’s abdomen, feeling the muscles jump and contract at his touch.  

Neymar held tight around James’s neck as the Columbian began sucking hard against the younger man’s pulse. His hands were still exploring every inch of Neymar’s torso, pressing insistently against his skin. James’s hands eventually found their way under Neymar’s thin shirt and he rested both hands gently against the small of the Brazilian’s back, thumbs moving in small circles. Neymar loosened his grip to look James in the eyes.

“Why’d you stop?” breathed Neymar, resting his forehead against James’s with a slight bump.

James smiled warmly down at Neymar and tightened his grip on the younger man’s waist, pulling their hips flush against one another’s. Neymar gasped a bit at the sensation of the other man’s hardness pressed firmly against his. He couldn’t help the slight blush that crept its way onto his cheeks. He looked away, feeling flustered.

“You’re just so gorgeous,” breathed James, who brought one hand up to Neymar’s cheek, trying to urge the Brazilian to look at him. He wanted to see those sharp green eyes, tainted with dark arousal, which had entranced him since the first time he laid eyes on the Brazilian.

“I, um, I… well I don’t know… about that,” replied Neymar, shrugging a bit. And James thought it was absolutely ridiculous that Neymar was feeling insecure right now, because Neymar typically seemed so sure and confident with himself. James just assumed that mindset would transfer over into the bedroom as well.

“You are though really,” reiterated James sincerely, tilting Neymar’s chin up with his pointer finger and leaning into press a long lasting kiss there. Neymar brought his hands up to rest on James’s bare torso, which was warmly muscled and smooth to the touch.

“C’mon bed,” urged James pulling away briefly, much to the disappointment of the younger man.

As soon as they stumbled through the doorway of the bedroom, James was on Neymar. The Brazilian’s breath was knocked clean out of him as James roughly grabbed his face and smashed their lips together, forcing his mouth open with his tongue. The kiss was wet and sloppy but _Christ_ was it hot. The atmosphere was suddenly so different when compared to the light gentle touches from before. Both players wanted each other, desperate now.

James began walking slowly forwards, lips still locked with Neymar’s. The shorter man let out a surprised breath when the back of his knees collided with the bed and was sent falling backwards onto the sheets.

Neymar looked up at James who was smirking bemusedly down at him.

“Not fair,” huffed Neymar biting his lip.

James just laughed a bit waving a hand at him. Neymar was propped up on his elbows waiting for James to come onto the bed; which he didn’t. Instead the Columbian was just staring at Neymar, bottom lip trapped between his white teeth, eyes trailing across every detail covering the younger man’s body.

“Um, are you going to-,”

“Undress,” ordered James looking at Neymar intently.

Neymar could a sudden feel a rush of heat travel up his spine at the sound of James’s voice. It was deep and commanding and Neymar felt powerless against it. He reached down to slide his shorts off until he was in nothing but white briefs. Neymar took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and slid his underwear down his legs. He kept his eyes closed with his head tilted back against the sheets but he could feel James’s eyes burning into his skin.

He heard the bed creak and dip a bit as James knelt onto it. Neymar felt his thighs being parted by James’s firm hands and moaned a bit at the cold air against his sensitive skin. He wasn’t cold for long as James settled between his thighs; that warm firm body pressed flush against his. James dragged one hand all the way up from Neymar’s navel to his neck, feeling roughly at the skin as he went. Neymar just moaned at the sensation of James’s hands all over his body.

“Fuck you’re so responsive,” whispered James into Neymar’s ear. Neymar could do nothing but nod his head shallowly and lean up to capture James’s lips in a deep kiss.

James began to slowly grind his hips down onto Neymar’s erection. The younger man arched his back off the bed in response, gasping loudly into James’s mouth. James set a maddeningly slow rhythm, his clothed erection sliding slowly up and down Neymar’s cock while Neymar could do nothing but grab at James’s shoulder blades, pulling him impossibly closer. Neymar was panting brokenly now into James’s mouth. The feeling of James’s clothed erection rubbing against his naked one was infuriating. He could feel the hard outline of James’s cock against his but not the real thing.

Garnering all his strength, Neymar pushed hard at James’s shoulders which sent the taller man sprawling back on his knees until Neymar leaned up and pressed the confused Columbian back onto the sheets.

James let out a little huff of laughter when his back hit the mattress. He was quickly straddled by a smirking Neymar.

“Did not know you were that strong,” laughed James, stroking abstinently at Neymar’s smooth thighs around his waist. Neymar just rolled his eyes and flipped his hair back out of his eyes.

From this angle, James could properly admire every detail scattered across Neymar’s naked body. His leanly muscled chest was rising and falling quickly out of breath from their heated kisses. His narrow torso was completely smooth and golden, tanned skin covering his well- defined abs and V line.  His collarbones were highlighted prominently under the dim lighting and James wanted to lean up and run his tongue along the fragile bone. Neymar’s dick was hard and leaking against his stomach.

James could feel himself get even harder and he desperately needed friction or touch of some kind. James tried to lift his hips up to get a reaction out of the younger man but Neymar just held his palms firmly down against James’s hipbones. James threw his head back, biting his lip to stifle his whine.

Neymar reached one hand down between their heated bodies to cup James’s erection through his underwear. He rubbed the flat of his hand once against James’s cock before teasing the outline of it. James surged up to latch onto Neymar’s neck, sucking hard against his pulse point. Neymar moaned and threaded his un occupied hand through James’s hair, tugging a bit.

Neymar abruptly grabbed at James’s hair roughly to pull him off his neck. James inhaled a surprised breath as his head hit the back of the sheets. Neymar had time to appreciate James’s current state. His eyes were darker than usual, glazed over and blackened with arousal. His face was slightly flushed a light pink color, and his lips were glistening wet with saliva. He looked devourable.

The younger man didn’t give James any type to react. He leaned down and licked a flat stripe from James’s neck all the way to his navel, tongue tasting every inch of his body at a maddeningly slow pace. James could feel the hot, wet sensation of the younger man’s tongue all over his skin and it sent a rush of sensation straight to his dick.

Finally, Neymar’s mouth hovered right over James’s straining erection which twitched a bit in anticipation. Neymar’s piercing green eyes looked up at him from under his lashes and the teasing man ran his tongue over his top lip slowly just to infuriate James, who wanted nothing more but for those gorgeous lips to be over his cock.  

“Fuck you’re so gorgeous Ney, please,” panted James, straining his neck to look down at the younger man. Neymar just hummed in response.

“Cause you ask so nicely.”

Neymar’s fingers teased at the waistband of James’s underwear before pulling away the fabric, tantalizingly slow. The Brazilian leaned down to press kisses to every inch of newly exposed skin. James was exhaling sharply at every feather light touch of Neymar’s lips against his sensitive skin.

When James’s cock was finally freed from the confinements of his underwear; he moaned in relief. He didn’t have much time to collect himself though, before Neymar’s lips began to lightly suck against the tip.

“Fuck,” rasped out James, shooting one hand down to rest against the younger man’s neck.

Neymar splayed his hands out against James’s muscular thighs, gripping them firmly, and inhaled deeply before lowering his mouth further and further onto James’s cock. James could only watch, mesmerized, as Neymar’s pretty mouth sunk deeper onto his length until his nose brushed against James’s abdomen.

Neymar stayed there for a moment inhaling deeply and looking up at James with half lidded eyes. The younger man’s mouth was so blissfully warm and wet and James could feel the head of his dick nudging against the very back of Neymar’s throat.

“Fuck, fuck Neymar,” panted James raggedly, tugging a bit at Neymar’s hair.

Neymar just moaned deeply around James’s cock and began dragging his tongue up and down James’s length, while still sucking his entire cock into his mouth.

After a few more seconds, Neymar slowly pulled off with a pop and licked from James’s balls to the very tip, before taking him into his mouth again. This time Neymar began to shallowly bob his head, firmly gripping the base of James’s cock while sucking insistently. One of the Columbian’s hands was fisted in the bed sheets while the other was gripping roughly at Neymar’s hair.

“Shit, yeah just like that,”

The praise from James made Neymar want to triple his efforts. He took a deep breath through his nose and relaxed his throat before sinking all the way down to the base again. His nose was squished against James’s panting abdomen and he heard the older man gasp brokenly above him.

Neymar began bobbing his head in earnest now, taking James deep into his throat before pulling up and doing it all over again. He was rather impressed with himself, considering he hadn’t deep throated a guy in over six months.

James’s hand in his hair began tugging roughly and Neymar could tell the Columbian was starting to lose his self- restraint. Neymar stilled his ministrations on James’s cock, just resting his lips softly against the tip, and James moaned in gratitude at Neymar giving him the que to fuck his mouth.

James first thrust was slow and calculated. He gazed in awe as the length of his dick disappeared inch by inch behind those wet, swollen lips and watched as Neymar fluttered his eyes shut and took it. As heavenly as the slow thrusts were, he felt a burning desire thrum through his body that needed more and began thrusting his dick faster into Neymar’s willing mouth.

The noises Neymar was making around James’s dick were obscene, wet and sloppy, but Neymar ignored that and continued trying to suck. He wanted it to be good for James.

James was gasping brokenly now and he could feel his orgasm coiling deep within his stomach. If Neymar kept this up, he knew he would come before doing what he actually wanted.

With a loud pop, James tugged Neymar’s mouth off of his dick and sat straight up. Neymar looked a bit dazed. His once vibrant eyes were glassed over but he was smiling happily up at James. James pulled him into a quick, deep kiss with both hands and he could taste himself against Neymar’s tongue. The kiss was cut short when James pulled away and gently lowered Neymar down on the bed.

The Brazilian was left lying on his stomach when James got up briefly to get the lube and condoms out of his suitcase, because, you always got to be prepared.

James quickly returned, tossing the items against the bedsheets, and crawled between the younger man’s legs. Neymar had his head resting on his forearms, eyes closed, and deliciously tanned thighs spread wide for James’s viewing pleasure.

James took a moment to admire the lean muscles running down Neymar’s back and the defined curvature of his spine, which led straight to the Brazilian’s perfectly rounded ass. James couldn’t help himself but bring both hands up to knead roughly at the younger man’s ass, spreading each cheek wider with every ministration.

Neymar moaned and arched his back at the feeling of cold air brushing against his sensitive hole. He brought his knees up from under him to better elevate himself.

“God, look at you,” whispered James softly, continuing to knead roughly against Neymar’s ass cheeks.

Neymar could only whine brokenly into the comforter in response. He heard the cap of lube being popped open and held his breathe, panting slowly in anticipation. He felt the light pressure of James’s finger against his hole and pressed his ass back into James’s hand to urge him on.

There was a sharp feeling of pain when James’s finger finally breached passed his rim. He inhaled slowly through his nose, trying to ignore the pain. James rubbed a soothing hand up and down Neymar’ back to help ease him through the initial discomfort. He continued to slowly press his index finger deeper in until he was at the knuckle.

“Okay?” whispered James against Neymar’s skin, pressing a kiss to his lower back.

“Yeah,” panted Neymar, his voice a little wrecked.

James drew his finger half way out before pressing in deep again, to get Neymar used to the stretch. The younger man felt so hot and tight around his fingers he could only imagine what he’d feel like when he finally had his dick in him. The thought sent an instant shot of arousal straight to his hardened cock, but he needed to take care of Neymar first and always.

After a couple minutes of James shallowly thrusting his finger in and out; he withdrew his finger until it was almost completely withdrawn before pushing back in. Neymar moaned at the new sensation and he could feel himself loosening up slightly.

James quickened the pace and began pumping his finger in and out of Neymar’s body with vigor. He could feel the muscle loosen around his finger and decided it was time to add another one. He pulled out completely to lube up another one of his fingers before sinking both of them into Neymar’s body without warning. The younger man threw his head back, biting his lip at the stretch, but began pressing his ass back against James’s fingers after becoming accustomed to the sensation. James began scissoring his fingers while continuing to thrust them deep inside the younger man. Neymar didn’t seem to be in much pain now, thank god, but James desperately wanted to find that spot inside the younger man that would have him seeing stars.

After a few failed angles, James crooked his fingers up just enough and felt his fingers brush against the small bundle of nerves deep inside the smaller man. Instead of pulling his fingers out to thrust back against it, James pressed his fingers even more firmly against the spot and that had Neymar practically screaming. The younger man was thrashing his head about from side to side and gripping the sheets with a deathly tight grip, his knuckles turning white.

After James withdrew his fingers, Neymar took a moment to catch his breath before raggedly speaking.

“I’m ready, please James, I’m-,”

James interrupted him by swiftly flipping him over onto his back. Neymar was panting heavily now, he didn’t feel like he could get enough air into his lungs he was so fucking aroused. His cock was lying flushed and hard against his abs and he desperately wanted James to touch him. James roughly pushed apart Neymar’s thighs with his hands before settling between them. He looked down at the younger man who looked completely debauched. His lips were swollen and abused, his eyes were glazed over with lust, and his hair was thoroughly mused.

James lined himself up against Neymar’s entrance, the tip of his cock brushing against Neymar’s hole.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” asked James, seriousness lacing his tone.

Neymar nodded his head vigorously,

“Yes, yes, please I’m good, I’m ready,” babbled Neymar.

James took that as his que to press slowly into Neymar’s lax body, the first couple inches of James’s cock penetrating his ass. And _God_ Neymar had missed this, feeling so fucking full and complete; he never wanted James to stop.

When James was completely buried inside Neymar and his balls rested flush against Neymar’s ass; he moaned lowly, biting his lip. Neymar felt so fucking tight around his dick he couldn’t believe he had gotten all the way in. But it was nothing but torture to stay completely still and wait for Neymar to adjust. The younger man was clenching randomly around his cock, while wiggling his ass tightly around James’s dick trying to become used to the size.

“Are you, are you good?”

Neymar just nodded once and that’s all James needed before grinding his dick deep into Neymar’s ass. The Brazilian let out a loud whine and James bent down to press their torsos together and pressed his lips against Neymar’s greedily taking in all of his pretty sounds. James pulled out slowly and watched as his cock disappeared slowly back into the younger man’s tight heat. He did that a couple more times before pulling out completely and then thrusting roughly back in.

“Fuck, fuck,” babbled Neymar but James only shushed him before pulling him back into the kiss.

James was looking for that spot again and on a particularly rough thrust upwards he found it as Neymar gasped brokenly against his mouth and arched his back up into him. James smiled and began thrusting his hips roughly against that same spot. Neymar wound his legs around James’s waist and pulled him closer. His arms reached up around James’s back to grip onto his shoulder blades, as James continued to hammer in and out of him. The only sound in the room was the obscene slapping of skin on skin and their mingled breaths shared between panting bodies. Neymar was scratching his fingers down James’s back, with every thrust he felt himself move further and further up the bed. James was panting into Neymar’s neck whispering how beautiful he was and how good he felt.

The praise only made Neymar keen more and press his ass back firmly against every one of James’s thrusts. James had set up a quick but brutal pace. Neymar could hardly catch his breath for every rough thrust against his prostate he’d gasp and he hardly had enough time to breath in before James was hitting that spot again. The sheets were catching around his waist and Neymar could feel a warm coiling deep in his stomach. James was fucking him in earnest now, his pace growing erratic.

Neymar could tell the older man was close and he began clenching tighter around James’s dick with every thrust. James gasped into his mouth and despite the awkward angle, wedged a hand in between their bodies and began stroking Neymar’s dick. And apparently that was all Neymar needed to send him over the edge before he was coming in between both their bodies. Neymar felt completely fucked out at that point but continued to press his ass back against James’s quickening thrusts and it wasn’t long before he felt James’s hips still against him as he emptied himself into Neymar’s body.

After a few quiet moments of both players catching their breaths and coming down from their orgasms; James slowly pulled out of Neymar’s body, tied off the condom, and threw it into the trash bin. Neymar could feel his eyes drooping already, post orgasm fatigue coming up on him quickly.

He heard James get up and turn on the sink, wetting a towel, before coming back and cleaning the come off Neymar’s stomach. Neymar just smiled dazedly up at James who laughed a bit and leaned into press a sweet kiss against Neymar’s lips.

A few minutes later both players found themselves entangled underneath the sheets, foreheads resting lightly against one another’s before drifting off into the first good sleep they’ve had in months.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think, I really do read all of them and they seriously make my day!!! Any feedback or suggestions are welcome


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a paradise.

The weeks passed by quicker after their first night together. James and Neymar would spend their lazy mornings tangled together under the sheets, bodies pressed tightly against one another, slow breaths intermingled. Neymar discovered that James liked to wake him up with the long forgotten art of Eskimo kisses, where the Columbian would nudge and poke at his nose repeatedly with his nose until Neymar would wake up. Neymar would of course protest at being woken up and push lamely at James’s chest to get away. James would of course wind his arms and legs around the smaller man and tug him closer until they were centimeters apart and surge down to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Their afternoons were spent lounging on the sandy shores under the Costa Rican sun. James would typically get up to take a break from the sun and go for a quick swim in the ocean. Neymar never complained because he never thought he’d see anything more beautiful than his Columbian lover emerging from the water, droplets clinging to his skin and falling from his hair, his muscles rippling under the sun’s rays, and his biceps bulging as he ran both hands through his damp hair to flatten it.

Neymar would whistle loudly at James, winking. James would whip his head around, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and saunter back towards Neymar before collapsing on him gracelessly ignoring the smaller man’s protests about him being ‘wet’ and ‘annoying.’

Sometimes to pass the time they’d watch their teams play on television. Barcelona was having kind of a rough start to the season and Neymar would muffle Portuguese swears under his breath. Sometimes the Brazilian would start shouting at the screen, which would make James visibly jump, startled at the outbursts. Of course, he found this more cute than anything and would smile affectionately at his lover’s antics.

At night they’d hold each other impossibly close as they fucked. Neymar was incredibly sensitive to James’s touch and he’d moan shamelessly in response. James liked to take the noises for himself, covering Neymar’s mouth with his own when the Brazilian was on the verge of screaming. They’d explored every inch of skin. They knew every detail on the other’s body. James loved to trace Neymar’s tattoos as the other fell asleep, humming quietly.

Neymar came to the conclusion that James was impossibly beautiful inside and out. He was genuinely kind and humble but easy to joke around with and laugh at. He was smart, much smarter than Neymar; apparently he actually liked to pay attention in school. James knew a lot about the world, like the night Neymar asked him why there were so many waves in the ocean and James had answered with a lot of scientific, statistical gibberish which Neymar had long forgotten but clung to every word at the time. James was thoughtful. Sometimes Neymar would catch him with his eyes downcast, eyebrows tense, lips terse in a thin line and he’d ask him what was wrong. James’s answer was always him worrying over somebody or thinking about ways he could improve himself. Neymar would get worried because whenever he zoned out he was typically thinking about insignificant things, like why he could wiggle only his big toe and pinky toe but not the ones in between.

Neymar hadn’t felt this close to anybody new in forever. The people he was closest with in his life were his sister, his parents, and a few of his teammates. For being such a celebrity, he didn’t have a very large social sphere… with people that he trusted, with people that he _loved._

And James was quickly making his way into his bubble and that scared him a little bit. It had only been three weeks and Neymar was already feeling that warm, safe, fuzzy feeling whenever he was with James, hell whenever he was _thinking_ about James. But that scared him, James scared him. He was too good, too perfect, too good for Neymar. This paradise that they shared for a month was just a fleeting dream and when they got back home it would all be over. And maybe Neymar stayed up late each night, long after James had fallen asleep, worrying over it. But he’d kiss James ever so gently on the lips to make himself feel better before forcing himself to close his eyes and go to sleep.

The night before their flight back to their respective countries, after James had fucked him so damned good, deeply and slowly, and had made tears fall from his eyes out of overwhelming sensation; Neymar had convinced himself that he wasn’t in love.

He wasn’t in love with James Rodriguez. He couldn't be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making this chapter kind of feelsy on you, i feel the need to warn you that the chapters might get a little angsty from here on out.. please comment and tell me what you think!!! Seriously comments and feedback mean SO much to me and i read every single on of them (:


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neymar tries to do what he 'thinks' is right.

 

Neymar was woken up by the shrill ringing of James’s phone. He was having such a comfortable sleep with James’s warm arm flung across his waist and James’s warm body pressed snugly up behind him. The Brazilian attempted to go back to sleep when the alarm quieted for a moment but it immediately started back up again and seemed to be louder this time. Groaning loudly, he managed to turn his body around to face James, who had somehow slept through his phone’s heinous ringing.

Despite Neymar’s intentions to shake the older man awake, he felt his throat tighten as soon as James’s sleeping form came into vision. He had a flashback to the first time he had saw James sleeping on their plane before anything had happened. Even though it was only a month ago, and the flashback was kind of pathetic, Neymar felt his heart sink as he looked at the Columbian’s peaceful face. It reminded him that this was the last time that he’d see James’s delicate eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, it reminded him that this was the last time he’d see James’s lightly scattered freckles this close up, it reminded him that this was the last time he’d wakeup next to the man that he had quite possibly, fallen very hard for.

It was impossible to ignore what he was feeling. He had to accept it by now. Neymar knew this day was coming since the day he left Barcelona. But instead of praying the days away, alone on some isolated coast, he had experienced a month with one of the most genuinely beautiful people he had ever met. And that’s how Neymar decided to think of the experience from now on. The end of what he and James had would be over by the end of the day. They both knew that. But Neymar didn’t have to walk away feeling regretful about it, about any of it.

Despite Neymar’s attempted positive thinking, he couldn’t help his eyes from involuntarily filling with tears because _God_ _I’m going to miss him._ Of course that was the moment when James’s ears decided to start working and his bright eyes slowly opened. The first thing James did was hastily turnover and turnoff his phone’s godawful alarm. Neymar contemplated wiping his eyes but the Columbian had already turned back to face him and noticed the younger man’s wet eyes. Concern quickly spread across James’s usually smiling features and Neymar felt ridiculous.

“Hey,” whispered James- stroking his fingertips tenderly down Neymar’s cheek, “Are you okay?”

“M’fine. I just yawned and my eyes get all watery from that,” lied Neymar, blinking rapidly in hopes to dissipate the tears.

“Oh ok, sorry about the alarm, did it wake you?”

Neymar laughed once and bit his lip, amused at James’s obliviousness.

“Of course it woke me up, stupid. I actually have ears that work,”

James smiled wide, dimples on his cheeks.

“I guess I’ve grown used to it by now. I’ve used the same tone for the past year.”

“How could you ever get used to that? It sounds like a damned ambulance.”

“Well, I did wake up didn’t I?”

Neymar just rolled his eyes and went to push the covers off but James grabbed his waist and pulled him flush against his chest. Their bodies were perfectly aligned and Neymar had never been so comfortable. But he quickly remembered that this was their last day, and he should be trying to distance himself instead of getting closer. He moved to push against the taller man’s chest attempting to put some distance between the two. James whined at Neymar’s efforts and snuggled his head into the Brazilian’s neck.

“Why do you resist me?” muffled James playfully, mouth squished against warm skin.

“We have planes to catch, in case you’ve forgotten,”

Their flights were scheduled to depart at the same time. However they wouldn’t be traveling together. James was taking a direct flight back to Madrid, where he was scheduled to be renewing his Adidas contract and Neymar back to Barcelona, where he was scheduled to meet with some sports hamstrin specialist.

“Since when are you the first to get out of bed?” asked James, as he began to press wet kisses to the sensitive skin of Neymar’s throat.

“Ah, please don’t do this to me,” begged Neymar as the Columbian rolled on top of him. His lower half still covered by the sheets, one leg slotted in-between Neymar’s. He suddenly pressed his entire body weight down onto Neymar, their legs tangled together and their chests squished. Neymar let out a dramatic breath of air.

“You’re crushing me,” laughed the Brazilian batting at James’s shoulders.

“Nah, you love me.”

That shut up Neymar real quick. He had been ignoring that word for the past few weeks. He was afraid of what would happen, of how James would react if he admitted it out loud. Neymar had seriously tried to convince himself that he wasn’t in love because if he wasn’t: saying goodbye would hurt less. James wasn’t allowed to go around and make casual accusations like that.

James seemed to immediately notice the change in atmosphere and he lifted his head up to look directly into the younger man’s eyes, which were still bright and entrancingly green despite the dim lighting. He truly is beautiful, thought James silently to himself.

“Hey, Ney- tell me what’s wrong,”

Neymar felt his throat closing despite his valiant efforts to hold himself together.

“N-nothing’s wrong,” replied Neymar turning his head away from James’s intense gaze.

“Ney,” urged James gently, “Look at me.”

“What do you want? I already said I’m fine, just-would you stop looking at me like that?”

James shook his head, bemused at how moody his boyfriend could be sometimes.

“Are you mad at me?”

“What? No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

The Brazilian just muttered something incoherent under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,”

“No, tell me. Please?” asked James sweetly, leaning down to press a soft kiss against the younger man’s lips.

“How are you like this?” asked Neymar suddenly, sounding almost accusatory.

James tilted his head slightly in confusion. And _Damnit!_ _James being cute here is not necessary!_

“Like what?”

That was it. Neymar abruptly pushed the covers off his body, forcing James off of him. James sat up, wholeheartedly confused as he watched the younger man pace around in front of him. After what seemed like minutes, Neymar finally stilled and stood facing James.

“I feel like an idiot,” spoke the Brazilian, running a hand through his tousled hair.

“Why?”

“Clearly-,” began Neymar, before stopping to swallow thickly, “Clearly I had it all wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re fine. You’re happy. How are you happy this morning?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Ney- I’m happy whenever I’m with you.”

“Yeah well you’re not going to be with me for much longer are you?” snapped the younger man.

James faltered at that for a moment. He felt his heart drop. If Neymar was trying to end things with him right now…when all James wanted was to talk about staying together before they parted ways, he would break. All this time, James had actually thought Neymar wanted a relationship, that he wanted stability and safety just as much as he had-all their conversations about being lonely and lost without someone to share the wins and happiness with. James assumed they were on the same page about this-that-that they wanted the same things, each other. He had never stopped to consider that he was wrong because their relationship had seemed so impossibly _right_ that just going back to the way things were before their time together seemed _wrong._

“Ney,” began James slowly, “You’re not doing this. You’re not doing this.”

“I-I-I think I am… I think I have to.”

“But you don’t,” replied James moving off the bed to stand directly in front of Neymar, who had his eyes downcast and bottom lip clenched between his teeth. “Ney, please look at me.”

The shorter man slowly raised his eyes up to meet James’s.

“Tell me why. Help me understand what you’re thinking.”

“We can’t do this. You know that James,” his voice sounding unconvincing even to his own ears.

“But I thought you wanted this. We had talked about this before, you told me-,”

“But this isn’t real anymore!” articulated Neymar gesturing between James and himself. “It’s over, it’s been amazing, really it has-,”

“Then why are you ending it? If it’s amazing, if we’re amazing…”

“Because we’re unrealistic, in this world- completely away from everything else- we’re perfect. But when we get back to the real world, we’re going to have the same problems. We’re never going to see each other. You’re going to go back to Madrid and travel all the time. I’m going back to Barcelona and be traveling-all the time. We’ll go back to our over working selves and we won’t have time for commitment. We would try but we’d grow apart. You know I’m right,” finished Neymar quietly, closing his eyes to avoid looking at James’s hurt ones. He felt tears start to well in his eyes again and he shut them tightly to avoid them from falling.

“You’re overlooking one important fact,” replied James, slowly making his way over towards the younger man.

“Yeah?” asked Neymar, biting his lip, “What’s that?”

James was right in front of him now. He could feel the heat radiating off the taller man’s naked skin. Neymar suddenly felt very cold. He felt his face being gently lifted and he couldn’t help a few tears from trickling out. James’s eyes looked intensely sincere and sad but there was a flicker of determination in them.

“You love me.”

Neymar sobbed brokenly at that, because it was undeniably unarguably true. He felt it deep inside himself and it consumed his very being at every time during the day. There wasn’t a moment in the past few days where he hadn’t thought about it, where he hadn’t thought about being with James, being together with James, _belonging to James._

Neymar felt himself being pushed rather harshly backwards until his back hit the wall and James’s mouth descended upon his. Neymar had never felt James kiss him this passionately. James’s tongue was demanding, exploring every inch of the Brazilian’s mouth and molding their mouths together until Neymar felt as though he couldn’t breathe. Right before Neymar felt as though he would pass out, James would pull back and suck unrelentingly against the younger man’s neck, no doubt leaving lasting marks. Neymar gasped tilting his head back against the wall. The taller man’s hands were everywhere at once, tangled and pulling at Neymar’s hair, feeling, gripping roughly at the tender skin of his neck, feeling unrelentingly against his sides and up his ribcage, reaching behind his back to pull him impossibly closer. Neymar’s skin felt hot, too hot but he didn’t care. When he finally regained control of his body, he attempted to thread his fingers through James’s hair but the Columbian denied him and caught both his wrists tightly, slamming them against the wall beside his head. Neymar just moaned brokenly, vulnerable against James’s insistence.

After what felt like forever, James pulled back, leaning his forehead heavily against Neymar’s. Both of them were panting, chests heaving as though they had just played a ninety minute match. Neymar’s eyes were glazed over as he looked into James whose eyes were clear and bright and knowing.

“And I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, please let me know what you think. I'm pretty sure there's lots of mistakes it's really early in the morning right now but please comment and tell me what you're feeling!!! I know this is pretty angsty, it will continue to be pretty angsty lol


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truths fly

It had been two weeks since James last saw Neymar. Two weeks since he had last looked into the younger man’s bright eyes and heard his infectious laugh-well- it wasn’t really a laugh as much as it was a hackle, but it was cute nonetheless. Two weeks since he had run his fingers through the Brazilian’s soft hair and felt his tattooed skin pressed up against his. Two weeks since James had assured Neymar that his love for him was real and wouldn’t be fading anytime soon.

The morning of their last day had been one of confusion then anger then misunderstanding and then sex.  James had felt bad for making their driver wait an extra thirty minutes while he and Neymar had quickie in the bathroom, but he made sure to tip the good man extra afterwards. Both of them had been feeling quiet and sated after their eventful morning, and when they arrived at the airport; it struck them.

They weren’t going to be seeing each other for quite some time. They walked through the airport together, hands brushing slightly every once in a while. Neymar would smile shyly at him before turning away. James’s sensible side knew he wasn’t able to hold the younger man’s hand or pull him tight against his side as they walked. The fact that he had to keep their relationship completely to himself was selfishly upsetting. He wanted everyone to know that Neymar was his, but he knew how people would react to something like this: not good. Their careers would most likely fall apart and both of them wouldn’t live through seeing their passions so quickly torn away. It was still maddening anyways.

They were forced to part ways when Neymar reached his flight terminal and James could tell the younger man didn’t know how to say goodbye. The Brazilian shifted his weight from side to side, scratching behind his neck awkwardly.

“I-um, so I’m sorry about this morning-,” spoke Neymar quietly, fiddling with the bottom corners of his shirt. “I never really apologized to you about it and well I guess I had completely overreacted and well I just – sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry about anything, okay?” reassured James, placing both hands on the younger man’s shoulders. Neymar looked up at him his eyes sad and apologetic.

“I just want to tell you that-,” began Neymar before stopping abruptly. He furrowed his eyebrows, frustrated at his inability to articulate himself.

“I want to tell you so much… but I suck at this and… I just- I love you,” finished Neymar lamely, smiling sheepishly.

James laughed and pulled Neymar into a tight hug; the younger man gripped tightly at the back of James’s shirt, the cloth bunching in his fists. James rested his head against Neymar’s and clothed his eyes, feeling the slight tickle of hair against his cheek. He had mumbled, “Love you too Ney,” against the Brazilian’s neck, and turned his head to quickly press a kiss to the younger man’s forehead. James sighed deeply and Neymar hugged him tighter for a few more seconds before letting go and stepping back.

Neymar looked over his shoulder once and gave a little wave before disappearing completely. He had felt his chest sag with longing. It had only been twenty seconds and James already missed him. He really had to get a grip on himself.

James had almost immediately returned to training once he got back. Upon landing, Benitez had texted him expecting him to be fresh, relaxed, and ready to practice on Monday. His teammates had created a group text welcoming him back with messages composed of only exclamation points, confetti emojis, balloon emojis, and different colored hearts. James had replied, ‘ _I’ll block all of you and feel no regret.’_ They all replied with the sad face.

Despite missing the Brazilian terribly, James felt internally clearer and more at ease after his month long getaway. Time away from football had helped calm him down, and made him realize that soccer wasn’t the only thing in his life. Initially, he thought the required leave would be pointless and expected to go in and come out the same way; but meeting Neymar, as incredibly unexpected as it was, changed him for the better. The way they had clicked was so fast and easy, James never became so attached to anyone in such a short amount of time. Sometimes the younger man just seemed too perfect- for James that was. He was exactly what he _needed_ but never realized he wanted. The time they spent together was paradise away from the cameras and hounding media, and James wasn’t naïve he knew their relationship was going to have an essence of uncertainty from now on but he was determined to make time for people that truly mattered. All the Columbian could do was make sure that the both of them didn’t drift apart. Neymar was something special, he knew that.

The morning of his first practice back Cris had texted him expecting to hear all the details at practice, and James was forced to divulge. For some reason Cris seemed so adamant about knowing all the details and James pretended not to act suspicious.

The firmness of the grass beneath his feet and the raucous sound of teasing banter made him feel at home again. His teammates had collectively jumped on him when he walked into the locker room. He had especially missed Marcelo and Cris who after the tackling session came up and hugged him individually. James would never tell Cris but Marcelo gave the best hugs. Despite being a seasoned athlete, Marcelo somehow managed to feel soft and welcoming during hugs, turning into a big pillow while Cris, with his statuesque build, felt like James was pushing himself into a brick wall. James still liked them anyways and chuckled when he remembered that Messi must like them an awful lot more.

It was during stretching when Cris asked him about the trip.

“So, how was it?” asked Cris, smiling slightly.

“Good. Great actually,” responded James, leaning down to touch his toes.

“Do you feel any different?”

“Yeah, much more relaxed, honestly I didn’t think this was going to help me whatsoever but it really did. Thanks for encouraging me.”

“Oh yeah? What about it made it help so much?”

James paused for a moment. He couldn’t just tell Cristiano about Neymar, as much as he trusted his teammate, he hadn’t confided in the Brazilian about who was okay to tell and who wasn’t; even though Cris seemed like the most logical person to tell, as he was dating freaking Lionel Messi… but still.

“Just time away I guess.”

“Really?” asked Cris, sounding unimpressed.

“Yep…”

“You look more relaxed now.”

“Thank you?”

“Did you meet someone?”

“Um-no-I slept, a lot, lots of sleep-,”

“How’d you and Neymar get on?”

“Um, alright,” answered James airily, feeling his heartrate pickup. Despite valiant efforts, a nervous flush began to creep up his neck. He was a horrible liar and he knew that Cris could see straight through him.

“Did you get to know him?”

“Somewhat.”

“Did you guys hangout?”

“Sometimes,”

“Did you become friends?”

“You could say that,”

“More than friends?”

James swallowed thickly.

“Um, nope,” croaked out James unconvincingly, “Why would you think that?”

“You hesitated.”

“So?”

“So… yes to more than friends?”

“I think I hear Benitez calling me, sorry got to go,” said James beginning to jog away. His palms were sweaty. He considered it a miracle he hadn’t blurted out the truth under Cristiano’s knowing stare. He could hear Cris laughing behind him as he quite literally ran away.

“We’re not done talking about this James!” called out Cris to James’s retreating form.

As practice continued, James got the feeling that Cristiano had known something all along and by the ever present mischief sparkling behind his eyes, James realized Cris had probably known, if not planned this all along. And for some reason he found himself being completely okay with that- even grateful.

* * *

 “You look good.”

“I always look good.”

“Debatable.”

“Leo, please you know I’m beautiful.”

“I meant you look calmer, more relaxed.”

“Oh, sure, yeah- time off helped heal my leg faster.”

“So the medical leave went well then?” asked Leo, raising an eyebrow.

Neymar found himself becoming flustered just at the mention of the trip because _James._

“Um, yeah, better than expected.”

“And James?” added Leo, feigning nonchalance.

“What about him?” asked Neymar, slightly suspicious of Leo’s inquiry.

“Did you guys get along?”

“Sure, he’s cool.”

 _‘And ridiculously beautiful and generous and humble and funny and charming and perfect and kind and I’m in love with him,’_ added Neymar in his mind.

“Cris told me you guys got along well. Maybe even became friends.”

“Cris told you? What? You guys are already talking about this?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god,”

“And maybe even more than just friends?” added Leo, trying to keep the smile off his face.

Neymar whipped his head around.

“What? What? No? Did Cris tell you that? Is that what James told him? Did James tell him? Oh my god I’m going to kill him.”

“Okay thanks for letting me know,”

“Letting you know what?”

“That you and James are together.”

“You already knew that, Cris told you.”

“I haven’t talked to Cris all day. I just made a guess.”

Neymar gasped, feeling tricked and betrayed and also a little impressed at the Argentine’s intuition.

“You’re such a little shit! How did you know?”

“We set it up.”

“Excuse me?”

“Me and Cris, we set you two up.”

“Um there was no setting up, it was a spontaneous thing trust me.”

“You traveling together wasn’t,”

“Wow okay seriously?”

“Yep.”

Neymar felt his mind reeling. He didn’t know what to feel in response to what he just learned. On one hand, Leo and Cris were conspiring little shits who felt the need to take it upon themselves to ‘cure’ Neymar by whisking him away and sending along James as what they believed, would be a match made in heaven. Neymar’s life wasn’t a game they could play with whenever they wanted Godammit! On the other hand, without their conspiracies Neymar would have never met and fallen in love with James, who despite not meeting by chance, was one of the most beautiful people he had ever met- and probably would’ve fallen in love with him regardless of Leo and Cris’ plan. So maybe he and James weren’t a spontaneous, destiny kind of thing but that didn’t change Neymar’s mind in the slightest. He was still positively enamored with the Columbian and his affection for James helped him overcome his initial annoyance at Leo and Cris for interfering. They were, after all, why the whole thing had happened.

“I want to be pissed at you but I can’t and I’m pissed about that.”

“Just thank me when you’ve calmed down.”

“No.”

Leo just laughed and slung an arm around Neymar’s shoulders.

“I’m happy for you though, really I am Ney. I didn’t mean to be obtrusive or anything but we really just thought that… you guys would be good for each other and that’s all.”

“It’s scary how right you were.”

Leo smiled wide and squeezed him tighter.

“Wow, we really did kill two birds with one stone.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So James and Neymar realize it was a setup haha sorry i know this is kind of a filler chapter but i wanted to write this. Let me know what you think and please leave a comment!!! They seriously make my day and make me want to write more for you guys!!! :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El Classico

El Classico was two hours away. Neymar always got nervous before games, but this match took it to a whole other level. The biggest match of the year with the greatest clubs of all time with the best players in the world… Not to mention a rivalry far outdating Iniesta’s lifetime. Okay, well Neymar didn’t want to be rude or anything but the man’s remaining hair was already grey and that’s a sign of old age right? Still a great guy though and fantastic player, no judge.

Neymar’s head was pounding from all the bombarding of the media and fans the last few days. Time away had made him forget that he couldn’t just walk to the supermarket whenever he wanted without at least wearing sunglasses or disguising himself in some way. Sometimes Neymar was actually impressed by paparazzi and their razor sharp vision and ability to hide amongst the crowd. Occasionally they pretended to be fans to get close before whipping out their cameras and blinding Ney with the unrelenting flashes. Leo was surprisingly really good at never blinking when the flashes began and Neymar had never understood that because whenever there’s photographs’ being taken he swears he goes blind for like three seconds afterwards. So he’s convinced that Leo’s partially blind because there’s no other explanation.

Enrique had been yelling a lot more the past few days too. Typically their coach had a surprisingly calm demeanor about him but still, there’s always something buzzing under his skin, a loose fuse, able to go off at any moment. Neymar liked the guy, but the added pressure to play good was not helping soothe his nerves.

Everyone in the world was going to be analyzing him too. A month off, hamstring completely healed, nominated for the Ballon D’or, yeah Neymar was really fucking nervous. He could feel the team vibe being thrown off too. Not neccesarily in a bad way, but everyone was more serious lately, like deadly serious. At practice there was little to none tom foolery, which there typically was a lot of, and even Geri quieted down. That’s a big deal.

“Is it weird?”

“Is what weird?” asked Leo, seated next to him on the bus.

“Playing against your boyfriend?”

Leo just smiled and was quiet for a second before returning his attention back to Neymar. 

“Honestly, sometimes,” began Leo, “Cris is a really competitive person.”

“Well so are you, in your own concealed but still very noticeable way.”

“I guess but… I don’t let the game change anything between us, Cris… not so much.”

“What do you mean?”

“He just gets really stubborn. He’ll ignore me for at least a couple of days-,”

“A couple of days?” asked Neymar in disbelief.

“And ignore my calls, not reply to my texts, and then after about four, five days he’ll finally text me asking if I can come over.”

“Wow, I didn’t expect him to act so childish about it,” supplied Neymar, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“That’s just him though. He always has to win. It’s not a bad thing, winning is part of him and I don’t judge him for that.”

“Hm, true, winning is nice.”

“How about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you feeling weirded out by playing against _your_ boyfriend?”

Neymar was really thankful Leo asked him that.

“Oh my god so weird. I don’t know what to do, I mean obviously I want to win and score goals but I don’t know how James is when it comes to losing. I hardly knew him before, but now I feel kind of thrown off. Of course this has to be the first time I’m seeing him in a month and I don’t want-,”

“Ney,” Leo interrupted. “James is a professional, like you, from what I know about him he’s very mature and he’s not going to be all butt hurt, like Cris, when we win.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Neymar scrubbed a hand down his face.

“I just ugh. I guess this is just how it’ll be from now on.”

Leo patted him once on the thigh.

“I wish I could assure you it gets easier, but with Cris I’ve never known such a pleasantry.”

“He sounds like a lot to handle.”

“He is, but I love him regardless.”

“You get soo cheesy when you talk about him.”

Leo blushed a bit.

“I know but can’t help it.”

The younger man just laughed lightly and ruffled Leo’s hair. In return Leo ruffled his and it soon became a challenge to see who could mess up the other’s hair more. In the end, the Argentine won because he always does.

* * *

 

Neymar’s heart was fucking beating out of his chest while he stood in the tunnel. He was standing at the very back of the line because he had forgotten to put on his shin guards and he was trying not to be too superstitious about that. The opposition hadn’t come out of their locker room yet, Real Madrid was overall a collectively dramatic bunch, except James because he was perfect. Thinking of James, Neymar believed that part of the reason why his palms were already sweating was because in the next two minutes he was going to see his boyfriend walk out of the locker room and into the tunnel. His boyfriend-who he hadn’t seen in a month- and missed so much he’d had forty seven dreams about him in the past three weeks. He knew that because he kept a dream journal, which he updated every morning. Okay he confessed to keeping a dream journal and no, he doesn’t feel embarrassed by it.

Neymar couldn’t help but fiddle nervously with his uniform, constantly straightening and readjusting it. He kept touching his hair too, which really had to stop because by succumbing to his nervous antics- he was progressively messing up his hair. Geri had turned around and gave him a weird look, which Neymar responded to by flicking him off. Neymar was convinced the guy liked being flicked off because every time he would get the finger he’d just laugh and smile, as if it were a friendly gesture and not an offensive one.  

After another minute, Neymar heard the sound of cleats clomping across the tiled floors and the voices of Sergio and Cristiano. The Brazilian straightened and forced himself to stop twitching in anxiety, while the Real Madrid players filed into the tunnel.

Cristiano was at the front of the line, per usual, with Sergio behind him and then Marcelo and Kroos and so on. Cris gave him a small professional nod of acknowledgement as he passed by, Neymar nodded back slightly in response. When Cris reached the front of the tunnel, he glanced obviously at Leo, who was acting like he hadn’t noticed him. The Portuguese continued to stare at Leo, waiting for a reaction, but the younger man just continued to look straight ahead, ignoring his boyfriend. It was amusing watching Leo mess with the older man. After a few more seconds, Cris rolled his eyes and turned away, which is exactly when Leo acknowledged him, greeting him enthusiastically. The Argentine was a little shit when he wanted to be.

Neymar scanned the line of players for the one person he wanted to see, but nothing. For some reason James wasn’t there and that started to worry Neymar until he heard the rapid patter of cleats against the tiled floor and relaxed considerably because who else could it be besides James _._

The sound of studs against the floor got louder and louder until it suddenly stopped. Neymar’s stomach was doing flip flops and he worried that it wasn’t because of the game. He glanced quickly behind his shoulder and saw James at the top of the stairs smiling right at him. Neymar felt all his nervousness float away because fucking _James._

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth, pure genuine happiness overtaking him. The Columbian rushed down the steps in a rapid pace and was still fucking smiling at him. The amount of charm and cuteness in one person was neither fair nor possible.

James came to the bottom of the stairs and took two big steps forward.

Neymar opened his mouth to say hi but then the Madridista was pulling him close and wrapping his arms around Neymar’s waist, holding tightly. James’s hold was warm and comforting, and also unrelenting. The younger man sighed happily and slid his arms up his boyfriend’s arms to lock behind his neck. They simply held each other, embracing the familiar feeling of one another’s bodies’. Neymar’s cheek was squished against the juncture of James’s neck and shoulder, while the taller man smiled against his forehead, lips brushing against his skin ever so slightly. James smelled familiar, like cinnamon and fresh cut grass. Neymar released a huge breath he didn’t realize he was holding and as he exhaled, his body molded accordingly into James’s body. Their torsos and hips were flush against one another now, their embrace somehow becoming tighter than it was before and he could feel James’s muscled torso pressing against his. He wasn’t going to become emotion right now but he missed James so fucking much it hurt.

“I missed you,” whispered James into younger man’s ear, fingers pressing tighter against Neymar’s hips.

“Good you better have,” muffled Neymar into the crook of James’s neck. “You fucking made me miss you and shit.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No, it sucked,” replied Neymar smiling.

James loosened his grip slightly to pull back and look into the younger man’s eyes. Neymar’s eyes never failed to make his heart speed up. They were so bright and vibrant, captivating and so expressing of character. Ney didn’t always like to share his feelings but his eyes told James everything he needed to know and he felt his heart flutter when he saw genuine love and affection sparkling behind his irises. He made the mistake of glancing down at the Brazilian’s lips, which were just right there, and he felt himself leaning in before he knew what was happening.

A loud cough interrupted him. It was Cris. Fucking thankfully none of their other team members seemed to notice their blatantly overdone PDA. They were all faced foreward and chatting with one another mindlessly. It was only Cris and Leo who had their heads peeking down the row, staring amusedly at James and Neymar. The younger man blushed fiercely and unlocked his arms from around James’s neck, sliding them down his shoulders, and slowly over his biceps. He looked up at James from under his lashes to see the taller man looking down at him intensely, eyes calculating.

“Are you trying a distraction tactic on me right now?”

“What, no?” quipped Neymar, tilting his head in mock confusion.

James chuckled in response, eyes sparkling.

“Oh my god, you so are.”

“I’m offended you believe I would reduce myself to such a level, physical distraction please,”

“It’s definitely something you would try,”

“Try?”

“Yep, because it’s not working,” challenged James smirking playfully.

“You’re so lying right now! I know you can’t resist my charms.”

“What charms?”

Neymar inhaled dramatically.

“James I feel hurt.”

“Good, you should feel bad for distracting me.”

Neymar laughed, biting his lip to quiet himself. James smiled good naturedly, unwrapping his arms from around the shorter man’s waist. He took a step back to align himself with his team and mouthed ‘get ready to lose’ to the younger man. Ney shook his head, pretending not to notice, which is when the referees began walking out onto the pitch and El Classico began.

Real Madrid was playing good but Barcelona was playing better. Their touch and passing was so precise and Neymar was thanking God it was happening today. The Madrista defense was one of the best in the world, but incapable of stopping the young Brazilian from breaking through. He found himself easily dodging flying tackles, miscellaneous arms and legs struck out in vain, while the ball moved perfectly on his foot.  

Often he found himself scanning the pitch for James, who looked upset and troubled with himself and his team, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes burning. As much as he loved James, it was hard to feel bad for the opposition who in the past had treated Barcelona members like gum on the bottom of their shoes. Players, coaches, and fans were so caught up in winning at Real that often the passion for the game was overlooked in exchange for profit and business. Players became more like machines than people.

As Barcelona’s possession continued to dominate, the more reckless Real Madrid became. Cristiano had a few good chances but in the end were insignificant to the outcome of the game. Their midfield was struggling to string together passes, their style of play was so rapid and fast that players miss-controlled the ball or were forced to make poor decisions. Benitez, who had a reputation for being unrelenting, yelled and urged the Real Madrid team to keep pushing up.

At one point, he waved a fat finger over at James who rushed to the sidelines to listen to his coach. Neymar watched as the Columbian’s expression fell almost immediately. Benitez pulled James in closer by his elbow, demeaning like an adult directing a five year old. Although Neymar couldn’t hear, he surmised that the coach’s words were not that of encouragement or inspiration. James went from looking determined to plain beat down within seconds; and Neymar found his fists clenching against his sides. Their coach acted like a fucking dictator and no one had the right to make James upset, no one.

Tensions continued to rise which only made the atmosphere even worse. Real Madrid fans were screaming insults left and right at players, of both their home team and Barcelona. Whistling swept through the stadium, piercing Neymar’s ears. James looked outwardly distressed now and began making carless mistakes. Neymar got worried, despite his mind’s insistence to focus on the game, and his efforts at smiling or waving to ease the tension- were seemingly ignored by the Columbian.

At one point, Danilo, who had been playing atrociously, tackled Neymar with no intentions of going for the ball. The Brazilian collapsed hard onto the ground, knees colliding with the hard turf. He held his knee which was throbbing and rubbed raw against the grass. Neymar clenched his teeth together as pain shot through his leg.

Danilo scowled at him and turned around, without offering a hand up. On his way back into position, he bumped shoulders with James and gripped him by the sleeve.

“Bullshit call,” spat Danilo. “Neymar, a fucking diver am I right?”

James glanced briefly at Neymar on the ground, expression blank, before reverting his attention back to the defender.

“Yeah, just don’t worry about it,” replied James, turning Danilo away by his shoulder.

And if that didn’t fucking hurt like a thousand bricks dropping on his chest. Surely he must’ve misheard because James wouldn’t say that, he fucking wouldn’t.

Neymar had been hot headed since the day he was born, his initial reaction to any form of insult being: anger. He stared heatedly at James’s receding back hoping the Madrista would turn around and look him in the eyes, detect the evident displeasure in them. But no James continued walking towards his goal as if he hadn’t just agreed with him being a diver and that fucking infuriated him.

Since the beginning of his professional career, the one criticism he had never been able to escape was being a diver. Despite working on his strength for years, his body didn’t accumulate muscle like other players but he made up for lack of build with impressive ball control, speed, and vision. But to some that wasn’t enough to convince them otherwise. Some would always believe he’d be one because he was too weak not to. He was fucking pissed. The Real Madrid fans began booing and waving their hands at him insultingly. Ney saw one kid spit on the field. Ney felt his blood boiling under his skin. Leo approached him, looking very composed, which is exactly what the Brazilian needed right now: some damned composure.  

His captain came and placed a firm hand on the small of his back, the pressure was calming somehow. He leaned in close to whisper into Neymar’s ear, his right hand covering his mouth, to create a barrier for the sound.

“Ney, are you alright? You look ready to kill someone.”

“I am.”

“Did something happen with James?”

“Yes.”

“Is it a big deal?”

“No.”

“Can you ignore it?”

“Not likely.”

“Can you for right now?” asked Leo, increasing the pressure of his hand against Neymar’s back.

The feeling was grounding but Ney could still hear the blood pumping in his ears. His whole head was throbbing with overpowering adrenaline. A bead of sweat dropped down his forehead and hung over his eyelashes. He refused to wipe it away. He knew his anger was a bit of an overreaction but everything about the game, the players, the fans, the coaches were all getting to him and he couldn’t push them aside.

He took a dangerous free kick which nearly went in, skimming the upper right crossbar before flying into the stands. He gave James another long, intense glare before jogging back into position.

As the clock ticked away, the score was four to zero Barcelona. Many of the home team’s fans had left long before the fourth goal was netted and Benitez had designated himself to keeping quiet on the bench, knowing he was going to explode on his team after the game.

Neymar was dribbling on the edge of the box, ball glued to his foot, weaving seamlessly around dispirited Madrid players until he felt a sharp pain in his ankle as he was suddenly tackled. Despite his best efforts, he was knocked off balance a second time, catching himself from completely toppling over by sticking his hands against the turf, absorbing the majority of the impact.

He slid down onto his butt to readjust his socks which had fallen low during the tackle. He looked up expecting to see Danilo again or Ramos but instead locked eyes with James. The taller man looked distressed and confused at what he just did, dark eyes swimming with regret.

“Ney, I-,” began James but was rudely interrupted by the shouting of his name from across the pitch.

He quickly reached down to offer Neymar his hand up but suddenly Modric intervened, walking straight between the two, and harshly gripping James by the shoulder- leading him away. What the fuck was with these Real Madrid players?

Neymar hoisted himself up, feeling bitter and angry at the world in general. He took his time fixing his socks and straightening his jersey. He saw Danilo roll his eyes and mutter something under his breath, which made Neymar feel joy at causing the defender pain.

The whistle blew not long after and he was immediately hugged and tackled on by his exuberant teammates. For a moment, he forgot about the game completely only reveling in the blissful feel of winning. Barcelona formed a big celebratory circle and danced around, arms thrown around each other, laughing and singing in good spirits. Everyone was here, except someone was missing: Leo.

Neymar poked his head out of the circle, scanning the field for the Argentine who he saw conversing heatedly with Cristiano by the tunnel. The shorter man looked sad and pleading as he took small steps closer to Cris, who was waving his hands no in response to whatever Leo had suggested while backing away. The Real Madrid player looked tired and utterly displeased. After another minute, Cristiano turned away and disappeared through the tunnel. The younger man watched him leave and then turned away, looking sullen and defeated. Neymar decided he would talk to Leo afterwards, Cris being upset about the loss probably hurt Leo more than he let on before.

The Barcelona squad disbanded after a few more moments of cheer and laughter to go shake hands with the other players. Most of the Real Madrid team had already left, following an infuriated Benitez down the tunnel.

He looked around and saw James shaking hands with the referees. The sight made him smile slightly; he always was so respectful regardless of the outcome of the game. Neymar approached the referees too, which is when James noticed him, stilling slightly.

Neymar was still pissed about the whole diving thing, but as the endorphins faded away so did his anger. It was still there though; he wasn’t going to let James walk away from this.

They both finished thanking the refs at the same time and James turned to walk back towards the bench. Neymar grabbed him by the back of his jersey, disallowing his escape. He heard James exhale loudly before turning around to face the younger man.

“Ney, not now,”

“What the fuck was that?” demanded Neymar, knowing damn well that James knew what he was talking about. James pressed his lips together in a thin line and scrubbed his hands over his face in clear frustration.

“Now’s really not a good time to talk.”

“How could you say that? How could you agree?”

Now that Neymar had James’s attention he wanted answers, and he wanted them now. The other man seemed less inclined. Ney knew this wasn’t a good time, talking after a big loss was never a popular choice. He knew James was ridiculously upset and frustrated but still, Ney couldn’t think straight when he was angry.

“I said not now, alright?” asserted James, carefully controlling his rising tone.

“No. Tell me,” demanded Neymar invading James’s personal space. They were eye to eye now and the Brazilian was surprised to see flecks of anger building behind James’s eyes.

“Ney-,” warned James. “I don’t want to talk right now and I don’t want to get angry at you either.”

“You treated me like absolute shit that whole game! Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”

“Rodriguez! Are you coming?” called an assistant coach from the tunnel. Both teams had left to the locker rooms by now, James and Neymar the only two players left on the field.

“I’ll be there in a second!” answered James.

The assistant coach gave him a nod and thumbs up before retreating through the tunnel.

Once the man was out of sight, James returned his attention back towards the younger man who opened his mouth to speak. He couldn’t get a word out because then James was pulling him roughly by the arm towards the tunnel.

“Ow, what the fuck are you doing?” demanded Neymar, trying to pull his arm free. He was stumbling clumsily behind his boyfriend who continued to ignore him and his protests.

Once they stepped inside the cover, James tightened his grip on Neymar’s arm and practically flung him against the wall. The younger man let out a gasp of surprise as his backside collided with the cement and that’s when James’s mouth was on his. Neymar widened his eyes in shock, making small muffled noises against the taller man’s mouth. Ney had imagined dozens of scenarios for how their reunited kiss would go. He envisioned James cupping him by his cheek and kissing him chastely and sweetly or taking him into his arms and slotting their mouths together in unison; this was anything but that.

The kiss was all fire and filth. James’s mouth was covering his own, tongue finding its way into Neymar’s mouth. There was no finesse, their teeth clashing ever so often. James’s hands were all over Neymar’s body, one roughly fisted in his shirt, pulling Neymar close so his back arched off the wall, while the other was tangled in the Brazilian’s hair keeping his head tilted back. There was no way for Neymar to take control, James had him completely immobilized and he quickly found himself turning to putty in the Columbian’s hands.

James suddenly pulled away, forcibly pressing his body tightly against the younger man’s. One hand still in his hair, he tugged it to the side, exposing the smooth lines of Neymar’s neck. The shorter man was panting raggedly, his heart beating out of his chest.

The last marks James had given him had long faded. For an unbearable moment, James just breathed against the sensitive skin of his neck. He could feel every hot breath of air against his neck, which sent shivers crawling down his spine. Occasionally James would drag his lips slowly up and down the smooth, expanse of skin, the delicate sensation driving Ney mad.

“When I say I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to talk,” whispered James behind the shell of Neymar’s ear. “Okay?”

The younger man could do nothing but nod weakly, desperate now for James to do something. The atmosphere felt so different than before, Neymar definitely wasn’t one to give in so easily but there was something about James that compelled him to submit. His back was becoming sore from where it was unsympathetically held against the wall and his body felt jumpy from being held in one position for so long but he didn’t complain. James’s body was so hot and familiar and was suddenly possessed with the need to feel him for real.

“Now,” panted Neymar raising his head to rest it against James’s forehead.

“What?”

“Now, I need you now,” urged the younger man, clinging to fabric of James’s jersey.

“Okay, okay,” agreed James pressing kisses to the younger man’s throat, “Can you follow me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh okay so tell me what you think about this one!!! Also side note i don't have anything against any of the Real Madrid players (but maybe the coaches) and the events in the chapter are obviously made up exceptt the time James fouled Neymar lol that actually happened. Comment and tell me what you think i freaking LOVE hearing from you guys :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically just angsty porn

Neymar was struggling to keep up with James’s relentless pulling. He was led through the echoic concrete tunnels, completely bypassing the team locker rooms, and then through the two glass doors at the very end of the corridor. His boyfriend’s hand was clasped tightly around his wrist, and every time he would try to pull away James would simply tighten his hold, squeezing almost painfully around the fragile bone. He completely ignored the angry protests of Neymar, who felt rather insulted by James’s indifferent demeanor towards him.

Okay so maybe he was a little too easily swayed around James and maybe Neymar had a habit of turning to instant putty under the Columbian’s touch, but he really couldn’t help any of those things. It was all James’s fucking fault with his ability to read Neymar’s body so well. The Madridista was being unsettlingly quiet and Neymar doesn’t do well with quiet. The young Brazilian had a feeling that James was deliberately ignoring him to rile him up and then force him to back down again.

But as the Barcelona winger was led rather roughly through a glossy reception lobby with team elevators waiting for them across the room, he made a pact with himself. The pact being to: ‘Get a goddamned fucking grip of yourself. You will not let James get away with being an asshole and you’re going to get some fucking control of the situation before anything happens.’

He was feeling pretty pleased with himself; he had a goal set forth and Neymar felt compelled to complete it, drawing his determination from the anger he felt during the match, when James had agreed with Danilo that Neymar was a diver. Because he was _not_ a fucking diver and James had no right to say that, considering they were in a relationship and all.

Still in the middle of his heated thoughts, Neymar was suddenly pushed into an open elevator, a rush of cold air whooshing past his face. To avoid knocking against the wall, he threw forth his hands, bracing himself on the bronze support bar. He let out a shocked gasp at such rough treatment and righted himself quickly, then turning around to glare at the taller man. James was looking at him in a seemingly calm way, his stance was relatively relaxed and his lips were pressed in a straight line, but it was his eyes. It was the way his eyes were burning with a combination of frustration, anger, and above all desire. The elevator doors clicked shut behind him and a button for the fourth floor was pushed.

When there was silence, Neymar took a deep breath to compose himself.

“Look James, I know you think you can shut me up whenever you want alright? But this time, I think I deserve some fucking answers,” stated Neymar, locking eyes with the taller man. James remained silent, the only indication that he had heard the younger man, was the slight twitch of his jaw. “I get that you were upset and mad and frustrated out of your mind. But that still doesn’t give you the right to be a complete dick to me, alright?” asserted Neymar, taking a few steps forward. When there was still no reply, and the Brazilian felt just about ready to rip out his hair he ended with a taunt that was sure to get a reply. “Sorry my team played better than yours… or rather _is_ better than yours. But we can’t help it, we’re simply-,”

He was promptly interrupted by James reaching out to grab his infuriating boyfriend by the front of his jersey, the light weight material clenched roughly in his hands. Neymar should’ve expected the pull forwards, but he ended up stumbling clumsily anyways as James tugged him into his chest. Neymar gasped at the impact, the forcefulness of their torsos colliding nearly knocking the air out of him. He opened his mouth to attempt to catch his breath but then one of James’s hands was fisting itself in his hair and pulling his head back- the taller man’s mouth immediately colliding with the younger man’s. He inhaled sharply through his nose, still being disallowed air by his annoyed boyfriend.

James was unforgiving as he smothered Neymar’s open mouth with his own, tongue roughly invading every corner and crevice. Neymar was pissed that James was trying to force him down again, because no fucking way. Instead of allowing James to overpower the kiss, he pressed his tongue violently back, attempting to force out the other man’s invasive member. In addition, he pushed energetically at the taller man’s abdomen, fingers pressing painfully against the hard muscle there. In response, James swiftly moved one of his hands to grip at the nape of Neymar’s neck and pull him even closer, while his other hand scraped roughly down the younger man’s back, fingernails tracing along his spine, until his hand eventually came to rest on his ass, which he squeezed tightly. Neymar felt James’s smug smile in the kiss and became enraged at that. The Brazilian made a muffled noise of indignation, which was ignored by the Madridista. He began to push back in earnest, digging the palm of his hands into the Columbian’s chest.

And honestly, fuck height differences, thought Neymar as James began to lean over him, his taller, stronger body forcing the Brazilian’s body to comply with the other’s arching movements. He was practically glued to James’s front, stifled by their closeness. The Columbian continued to force Neymar to lean backwards, his back arching uncomfortably, his front molding against James’s torso. He knew James was forcing him into a vulnerable position. He was compelled to wrap his arms around the taller man’s neck in support, or see himself collapsing on the ground. Neymar was convinced that if it wasn’t for James’s hands on his ass and neck his entire backside would’ve surely painfully collided with the floor. The whole time, James’s mouth never left his, never gave the younger man a chance to catch his breath or protest like he wanted to.

When Neymar felt that James’s grip was slipping, he roughly thrust his head to the side, effectively freeing his mouth from the older man’s overwhelming kiss. He heaved in three deep breaths, heart hammering in his chest. Despite the protests bubbling up in his throat, he could feel his cock rapidly hardening in his shorts and _goddammit James._

When he managed to catch his breath, he slowly turned his head back towards James. The other man still had Neymar bent underneath him, and the Brazilian could see his biceps straining to hold him up.

“You,” panted Neymar into James’s mouth, “Better not fucking drop me,” warned the Brazilian, clutching tighter around his boyfriend’s neck.

“I’m tempted honestly,” whispered James against the younger man’s swollen red lips.

“I’d beat you up,” remarked Neymar, leaning into nip teasingly at the Columbian’s bottom lip, before drawing it in and sucking playfully on it. James moaned quietly and Neymar smiled as he drew James’s top lip in between his teeth. He rolled his teeth softly along the sensitive flesh before biting down hard. James gasped, mouth widening in shock, but his upper lip was still caught between the younger man’s teeth. Instead he could only hiss in pain, waiting in vain for his infuriating boyfriend to let go. Neymar felt rather proud of himself with gaining the upper hand. He smiled, satisfied with himself, before slowly releasing the other man’s lip from between his teeth. When James felt Neymar let go, he drew in his upper lip, running his tongue along it attempting to relieve some of the stinging pain.

“Ow,” commented James, locking eyes with the man in his arms, who was looking back at him, green eyes burning into his.

James secured his grip on Neymar’s backside before pulling him back up to a standing position. The Brazilian still had his arms wound tightly around the taller man’s neck and James’s hands were pressing hard into the small of the other man’s back.

“Do you have any idea how infuriating you are out there?” asked James against Neymar’s forehead, lips moving intimately against the skin.

“What are you talking about?” urged the younger man, leaning in to suck a mark into the smooth skin of James’s throat.

“No one could stop you. You embarrassed every single player on my team, including me.”

“Yeah well, I’m one of the best in the world for a reason,” replied Neymar coolly. And maybe he knew it would piss of James on purpose, but he was really turned on right now and he needed his boyfriend to do something about it.

He could practically hear James rolling his eyes at his retort. Neymar was about to add another cocky remark but then the elevator doors were opening and he was being pulled again. He could feel his heartrate pick up as James led him down a hotel looking hallway before stopping at a fancy white door labeled ‘James Rodriguez #10.’

Neymar raised one perfectly cut eyebrow at him, clearly amused at the extravagance of the Real Madrid facility.

“The room’s for if we have early practice or something,” explained James, twisting the door handle and ushering him inside.

Neymar stepped through the doorway slowly, staring at James out of the side of his eye. He padded his way over to the lavish bed and sat on the edge, stretching his arms above his head, his jersey riding up slightly, just enough to reveal a strip of golden skin. James was eyeing him sharply, hunger filling his gaze. Neymar fake yawned, pretending to be bored, because he knew it would anger James, and toyed with the slightly frayed ends of his jersey. He gripped the material between his fingers before slowly, slowly peeling it away from his body, one inch at a time, gradually revealing his gorgeously toned torso and smooth, unmarked skin. The room was cold against the Brazilian’s uncovered skin, and he shivered slightly as he felt his nipples harden in the cool room. James’s eyes were swimming with obvious desire, and he never once took his eyes off the Brazilian’s movements.

Feeling confident with himself, Neymar moved back towards the heard board and lay on his back, running his hands across his chest and down his torso, fingertips grazing against his nipples and he moaned quietly, arching off the bed into the touch. Closing his eyes, he continued to feel his way down his abdomen until reaching the waistband of his shorts. He easily slid them off, leaving him in only his black briefs. To give James a better view, he adjusted himself on the bed so his ass and crotch was on full display. He teasingly rubbed his thumbs just along the inner lining of his waistband, snapping the elastic band against his skin, moaning for effect. The noise infiltrated the quiet room, no doubt making James even more aroused. As much as the younger man enjoyed torturing the other man, his cock was painfully hard by now and he smoothly slid his underwear down his long legs, tossing them carelessly off the bed somewhere. He could hear soft footsteps slowly approaching the bed and took that as his cue to wrap his hand around his shaft and begin stroking himself lazily. His member was already hard and leaking pre cum, he swiped his thumb over the tip, making himself gasp, and used the moisture to help ease his movements. He could hear James stripping off his clothing before making his way over to the bed. The bed dipped slightly as the Columbian lay next to the younger man, who was stroking himself in earnest now, his arousal growing by the second. Neymar could feel James’s body heat next to him and he was desperate now for his boyfriend’s touch.

“Touch me,” panted Neymar, bucking up into his hand.

James stared appreciatively down at his boyfriend’s body, and not being able to resist he pressed himself up against the younger man’s side. The Brazilian moaned openly at the hot touch of skin against skin, and he could feel James’s cock pressing against his hip. James nuzzled his head into the crook of Neymar’s neck, pressing wet kisses up the line of his throat to his ear. He brought up one hand to rest against the younger man’s cheek before pulling Neymar’s head towards his and searing their lips together, tongues instantly colliding with one another.

“James,” sighed Neymar, “Want you to fuck me, so badly.”

“Yeah?” asked James, dragging a hand down Neymar’s naked torso, stopping to twist a nipple between his fingers. The younger man threw his head back against the sheets, moaning loudly.

“Yes, yes, missed you so much. Missed you, the way you fill me up. Tried to make myself feel the same but couldn’t,” babbled Neymar, increasing the speed of his strokes.

“How did you try?”

“Touched myself. Never felt the same though,”

“Show me.”

Neymar nodded, eyes hooded and widened his legs, thighs opening slowly. James watched, almost overwhelmingly aroused, as Neymar brought his fingers to his mouth before sucking them in one by one. Watching the long, deft digits disappear through those cherry red lips was driving the Columbian mad with desire. He watched as each finger left that sinuous mouth, shiny and glistening with saliva. Neymar locked eyes with James, gaze never wavering, as he moved his hand between his parted thighs. James watched as the younger man circled his rim lightly with his finger before slowly pressing past the tight muscle. The first finger was swallowed easily enough, Neymar desperate and needing to be filled. He began thrusting his finger shallowly inside himself, pressing it up to the knuckle before slowly withdrawing it and pressing back in.

“Add another,” commanded James after a minute or so.

Neymar just nodded obediently and brought the second finger to circle around his entrance, where his finger was still embedded, before pressing it in beside the other in one smooth motion. The Brazilian threw his head back, mouth hung open in a silent gasp, at the sudden stretch. There was a moment where the younger man just held his fingers still inside himself, before he began thrusting them in quickly. Neymar’s cock was lying hard and flushed against his abdomen, leaking and begging for attention. James leaned over and took the tip of his boyfriend’s cock into his mouth, sucking lightly at the tip.

“Oh god, fuck! James,” gasped the Brazilian, pumping his fingers in and out faster.

James continued sucking at the tip, gently, before slowly sinking his mouth down Neymar’s shaft, moaning in the process. The sensation of James’s hot mouth wrapped around his cock and his fingers moving in and out of him, stretching him, was quickly pushing him to the edge. Suddenly, James pulled off his dick with a loud pop, kissing the underside and back up to the tip. He rested his cheek lightly against the side and breathed gently against the sensitive skin, making Neymar moan unabashedly.

“Add another one,” ordered the Columbian, panting against Neymar’s abdomen, pressing light kisses to the smooth muscle.

Neymar didn’t even think too much about it, he was so lost in sensation he simply pressed in a third finger immediately alongside the others. After a moment of adjusting himself, he continued pushing his fingers rapidly inside himself, desperate to find the spot that would have him seeing stars. He was so close to that tiny bundle of nerves, fingertips brushing up against it every so often, but he couldn’t properly nail it. He groaned in frustration, stilling his fingers inside himself.

“I can’t do it right,” whispered Neymar, brokenly, feeling frustrated. “I need you now, please I need it,” pleaded the younger man.

“Okay baby, suck,” instructed James, bringing his hand to Neymar’s willing mouth, who instantaneously sucked in all the digits. He coated them energetically, head bobbing in effort, and eyes glassy behind his hooded lids. James used his other hand to stroke firmly against Neymar’s leaking cock, which had the Brazilian moaning pleasurably around his fingers.

James withdrew his fingers after a good while, and gave the younger man no time to prepare before shoving three fingers past his loosened rim. Neymar gasped, back arching beautifully off the bed, chest heaving with uncontrolled breaths. James wasted no time in going to work, determined to find the perfect spot inside the younger man. He began pumping his fingers in and out at a quick pace, spreading them and scissoring them inside the younger man. When he pushed them in as deep as they could go and crooked his fingers up slightly, Neymar practically screamed, eyes clenching and head flailing to the side, biting against the bed sheets- white teeth stark against the black sheets.

“Yes, yes, there,” rambled Neymar, pressing down onto the older man’s fingers.

“Do you want me to fuck you know?”

“God, yes. Yes, yes, now,” begged the Brazilian.

And who was James to disobey. James situated himself between the shorter man’s thighs, gripping them tightly and spreading them apart as far apart as they could go. James spit into his hand, stroking his shaft a couple of times, painfully erect, before lining himself up. When the tip of James’s cock pressed against Neymar’s rim, the younger man let out a long drawn out moan, wriggling himself against James’s member.

“You’re desperate for it,”

“Yes,” agreed Neymar, “Please fuck me baby,”

James pressed the palm of his hands against Neymar’s hipbones, to prevent him from arching up, as he slowly sunk into him.

“Oh, oh,” whimpered the Brazilian, grabbing onto the sheets beside his head.

There was practically no moment of adjustment needed, as soon as James was up to the hilt Neymar began grinding against him. The feel of the Brazilian’s tight, wet heat wrapped around and moving around him was overwhelming. James gripped onto Neymar’s thighs and began thrusting into him, quickly establishing a fast, brutal pace that had the younger man writing on the bed, thrashing his head from side to side in pleasure as the older man hit his prostate dead on with each deep thrust.

Shortly into it, James could tell Neymar was already close to coming. He had his eyes clenched shut, and was babbling incoherently against the sheets. His bottom lip was trapped tightly between his teeth and he was pushing himself down onto each thrust, in sync with James’s movements, causing his member to push impossibly deep inside the younger man. James wrapped a hand around his boyfriend’s hardened member and began to stroke in time with his thrusts. After only three more thrusts, Neymar jerked his head back against headboard, and came violently, his body twisting uncontrollably as he came all over his abs and chest. His mouth was hanging open in a silent scream and his knuckles were turning white they were clenched so hard in the sheets. James was close but he wasn’t finished. He continued to thrust in and out of the younger man’s lax body, who could do nothing but moan brokenly as James drove faster and faster to release. His thrusts became more frantic and erratic as his climax became closer. James leaned over to capture Neymar’s lips in a searing kiss, tongues tangling messily, before giving one last thrust and emptying deep inside the younger man. Neymar moaned at the sensation of the other man’s coming filling him, scratching his blunt nails down the taller man’s back. James pulled out after a minute or so, pressing soft kisses all over the Brazilian’s blissed out face before getting up to retrieve a towel from the bathroom. After they cleaned up, James crawled under the covers and pulled Neymar into his arms, resting his head atop the younger man’s.

“I’m sorry I agreed with Danilo about you being a diver Ney. It was wrong of me and I hope I can convince you that I have never thought of you like that and never will. You’re an incredibly talented, amazing, gifted, skilled-,”

“Mhm, keep going,”

“Um- able, fantastic, one of a kind,”

“True, what else?”

“Um,”

“You better find more things to say or I’m never forgiving you,”

“Ok, um… gorgeous?”

“I like where this is going,”

“Beautiful, stunning, vibrant, intoxicating, alluring-,”

Neymar fell asleep, smiling, to James’s rambling. Things were still the same. They still loved each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so i think the story may be winding to a close after a few or more so chapters, depending on how motivated i am to keep writing it and all- please tell me what you thought and if you liked it or not!!! Your comments mean the world to me and they seriously make my day. Thanks so much <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First contact after El Classico

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's just a fun little Cris/Leo interlude set a week after El Classico. I keep thinking i'm going to end this story but i keep wanting to add more! Ugh so frustrating anyways enjoy!

Cris had finally answered his phone exactly seven days after El Classico. Last year it had been thirteen days, so Leo considered this a marvelous improvement.

The phone rang three times, and this wasn’t one of the calls where Leo had actually invested hope and expectations into.

Typically when the Argentine called his pouty boyfriend, he called at exactly 8p.m where Cris would have just taken his shower and would probably be checking his phone before getting into bed.

Cris lived on a rigorous time schedule that had Leo waking up at four in the morning whenever he slept over, but sometimes Leo was persuasive enough to keep Cris beneath the sheets for a little while longer. (*wink wink*)

So he was surprised when Cris picked up at twelve in the afternoon as Leo was driving him from practice.

“What do you want,” was the brisk demand that came from the other line.

Leo snapped his head down at his phone in surprise, expecting to hear the ‘leave a message’ tone. He quickly grabbed at his phone and held it up to his ear. There was a beep from behind him, he might’ve swerved some, but fuck that guy- Cris was on the phone.

“Uh, h-hey Cris,” spoke Leo tentatively, trying to think of what to say. It was like talking to a scared cat, one wrong move and they’d dart away or in this case hang up.

“Leo,” stated Cris plainly.

“Um, how have you been?”

“Peachy,”

“Really?” asked Leo excitedly.

“No Leo, I haven’t been fucking ‘peachy,’ that was sarcasm.”

“Oh,”

There was a momentarily silence.

“Do you need something or-?”

Leo sighed heavily.

“Cris, c’mon please don’t act like this,” pleaded Leo.

“Act like what?”

“Like-like this is my fault,”

“Well I can’t really help that, now can I?” snapped Cris.

“You know I don’t take pride in winning against you,”

“Well you looked pretty fucking happy jumping around with your teammates and- and popping champagne after the game didn’t you?”

“The whole team was celebrating! I happen to be a part of the team!” reasoned Leo, feeling his body temperature rising.

“Whatever, I know you Blaugranas enjoy rubbing it in our faces,”

“Maybe some do, but I don’t! Why are we still fighting about El Classico? I thought we settled this like four years ago!”

“Did we? I don’t remember that happening,” muttered the Portuguese under his breath.

“Well, we did. Two days before the first El Classico we played in as a couple, you told me that whatever happens, afterwards we give each other a day or two, and then we get over it. Not ignore one another for a week and then still be bitter about it.”

“I still don’t remember that happening,”

“You seemed to remember it last El Classico, when you beat me!”

“Yeah well you were being ridiculous!”

“How?! By asking for three days to get over it?”

“Yeah! The agreement was only for a day!”

“Oh, you mean the agreement you ‘don’t remember’ but now conveniently choose to remember when you flip the situation on me?”

“Yes exactly!”

“Oh my fucking god,” seethed Leo in pure, explicit rage. He took a deep breath. “Clearly, we’re not going to smooth out anything over on the phone.”

“Acute observation Leo,”

The Argentine inhaled and exhaled slowly, willing his nerves to calm down.

“Cris,” spoke Leo gently, “Baby I’m coming over later tonight.”

“Why.”

“To resolve this,”

“Don’t bother,”

“I’m coming over Cris. You’re not going to change my mind.”

“I won’t let you in.”

“I know the gate code.”

“I’ll change the locks.”

“I have a key.”

“Goddammit Leo!” and with that Cris hung up and Leo smiled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and tell me what you think! Next chapter might be Cris/ Leo again because i love them, and miss writing about them and i love pouty, stubborn Cris soo yeah let me know if that's something you wanna see:)


	12. Here's A Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a lighthearted look into both couple's relationships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry omg so long since I've updated. I haven't forgot this story though! I think it's winding down to a close but there will be more material heavy chapters, like one or two more but please enjoy!!!!

Leo arrives at Cris's house later than he intended to. He couldn't find the goddamn key to his boyfriend's house and God knows Cristiano wouldn't have let him in if Leo showed up without it.

He punches in the gate code which is an impressively creative and intricate four digit code of: 1234, conspired by his genius Portuguese boyfriend. Cris didn't used to have a gate around his house but then fans started ringing his doorbell at three in the morning and he had to take action, beauty sleep at stake.

Leo pulls into the driveway and removes his keys, the engine dying and the sounds from the radio silencing. He feels a bit apprehensive sitting alone in the darkness of his car- worse case scenarios flooding through his head. There was a high probability of an argument occurring as soon as he walked in.

Usually Cris would tell Leo to essentially fuck off and that he'd call when he wanted to talk but Leo has learned to take initiative as soon as possible. The longer Cris went sulking the worse the reunion would be so Leo has become pretty damn persistent in coercing Cris to open up, lest their relationship suffer.

He pushes open the car door and begins the short trek up the driveway to the front door. Cris lives in a painfully modernist house, it's nice, really nice, but everything just seems too big- like the goddamn quarter mile of a driveway Leo has to pull into.

The key fits into the lock with no complications and Leo creaks open the door, head peaking in, wary of his living- fuming boyfriend somewhere deep within the house. He lets himself in and shrugs his coat off, hanging it up on hooks beside him. The house is eerily quiet and dark. Leo wishes Cris would invest in some more homey decor like plush couches and chairs or an authentic fireplace or pictures of his family but instead, Cris prefers dark expensive leather and hard, unforgiving-on- the- hips marble countertops with nameless paintings scattered across his walls.

Leo pads his way into the kitchen, flipping on the light switch. Where the hell is his boyfriend?

"Cris? Where are you?" calls out Leo, albeit pretty quietly. It feels weird to yell in so silent of a house.

No response. He shrugs and heads toward the master bedroom located near the back of the house. He hip checks himself on the goddamned marble counter and swears because shit there is no worse of a pain.

The door to the bedroom is wide open, Cris obviously not expecting visitors. Leo walks in and hears the faint thrum of the shower running. Satisfied at locating his boyfriend, Leo walks toward the bed and flops down onto it, kicking off his shoes. He considers walking into the bathroom and telling Cris he's here but he decides to just wait and sprawl out on Cris's absurdly comfortable bed.

Leo forgot how long of showers Cris takes. After about thirty minutes, the Argentine considers just yelling at Cris to hurry up from the bedroom. However he restrains from doing so, Cris hates hates being yelled at, even more so hates being yelled at to do something.

Leo exercises patience... for another 40 minutes. Then he hears the water being turned off and the shower door opening, fucking finally.

Right before Leo opens his mouth to alert Cris of his presence, the older man emerges from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips.

He looks fucking gorgeous after he showers. Not completely dried yet, his dark tan muscles glistening- skin still wet, water droplets falling from his loose hair and cascading down, rounding bare shoulders and slivering enticingly down his smooth toned chest. All over, his skin is flushed slightly red from the heat of the water. Cris always prefers near boiling hot showers.

Cris stops in the doorway and practically snarls when he sees him. "And what the fuck are you doing here?" demands Cris, crossing over to his dresser rather dramatically.

Leo stares at Cris's sculpted back pointedly. "I told you I was coming by."

"And I think I remember telling you to- Oh yeah, not," adds Cris, dropping the towel.

Of course Leo stares at his ass. Sadly, Cris pulls on a pair of black briefs way too soon for Leo's liking.

He's missed that ass.

"Do you have to act like I'm doing such an offensive thing just by showing up here?"

Cris glares at him from over his shoulder, Leo meets his gaze coolly.

"Why are you here," states Cris plainly.

"I think we should talk."

"Yeah I don't want to do that. So I guess you'll be on your way," offers Cris succinctly, pushing his arms through the sleeves of his shirt.

Leo watched his shoulder blades shift and stretch gorgeously under his skin. He bites his lip, eyes trained on Cris as he turns around and meanders toward the bed. Cris cocks one eyebrow at him.

"Or we can just have makeup sex and forget the Classico?" Leo suggests hopefully.

Cris just continues to look at him, looming over the bed.

"Babe, please can we just be together? I miss you."

The bed dips when Cris flops himself down onto it. Leo bounces an inch off the mattress in response, eyes bulging caught off guard. He presses his palms flat against the bed to stabilize himself. Cris can't help but chuckle softly.

"Ha, you're so little," teases Cris smirking over at him.

Leo glares at him. "You suck. Why do I even try to console you?"

"Because you're madly in love with me."

"Is that what you think?"

"Please, it's so obvious."

"You think so?"

"Mmhmm," hums Cris, wrapping an arm behind Leo's waist and pulling the younger man close against him.

Leo's back arcs where Cris's hand is pressed against the small of his back, right above the swell of his ass. Cris's other hand reaches into the collar of Leo's shirt, gripping the material gently between his fingers, his knuckles brushing inside against the smaller man's collarbone.

Leo rests his palms against Cris's broad chest, tucking his head under his boyfriend's chin. He slots a leg between Cris's thighs and pulls himself even closer, sighing contently. Cris's body was always so warm and comfortable. He always felt so safe in his arms.

"So you forgive me? Just like that?" asked Leo, nuzzling his head into the crook of Cris's shoulder, looking up, his eyes wide and seeking reassurance.

Cris sighs deeply and threads a hand through Leo's soft hair, massaging deeply. Leo moaned quietly. "Yeah baby, you know I'm never mad at you. I just needed time to be disappointed in myself. You know?"

Leo nods. "I understand but you know you never have to be disappointed in yourself Cris. Nobody works harder than you out there."

"Can't help it. I try to not let it bother me too much but I just can't help it."

"I know, I know babe. It just makes me sad to see you so upset at yourself."

Cris pulls back slightly to look Leo in his eyes. He smiles softly at him, lovingly. "I've missed you. Sorry for being such an asshole."

Leo laughs and it's beautiful. "Yeah you should be," teases Leo, "Make it up to me?"

"Don't I always?"

Cris surges down to claim Leo's lips with his own. Leo's lips part easily, instinctively, Cris's tongue, his taste, flooding into Leo's mouth all at once. The argentine hums happily against Cris's lips.

Leo stretches his neck and raises his chin as high as it can go to meet Cris's mouth with the same vigor. Their tongues tangling, pressing, pushing against one another, each man reveling at the familiar softness and wetness of each other's mouths.

Leo raises his hands and rests them delicately on his boyfriend's cheekbones, running his fingertips down along the prominent bones. He pops open one eye to admire the fierce handsomeness of Cris's face, his sharp eyebrows and strong jawline. Every one of his natural features emanates an intense, indisputable beauty that one cannot possibly not notice. He has a compelling presence in any room that draws people towards him; it drew Leo instantaneously.

Before they got together, the Argentine would easily become distracted by Cris's alluring physicality. His wide charming smile and the intensity of his gaze wherever it lied. On the field he would move with such a power, such a determination, that would absolutely capture Leo's attention. Cris was breathtakingly stunning all the goddamn time, which was understandably intimidating to the Argentine at first.

When Cristiano made his affections known to Leo, the younger man thought it was a joke.

Thank God it wasn't because Leo cannot fathom how he lived before without Cris swallowing him down in one attempt, without Cris pushing three fingers into Leo immediately finding the younger man's prostate, without Cris throwing Leo's leg over his shoulder and eating him out so fucking thoroughly Leo felt close to passing out, without Cris fucking him so roughly but so sweetly at the same time, without Cris smothering Leo's open mouth with his own while the Argentine came apart, practically screaming, under Cris's hands.

Their post Classico ritual always ends like this, with both Leo and Cris positively sated and satisfied- exhausted after fucking for hours. Cris returned to his loving, dorky self and Leo's nerves melted away, falling asleep in Cris's arms as in love as ever.

 

\-----

  
"James," whispered Neymar against his boyfriend's shoulder, smoothing his hand along the rounded muscle and pressing his lips against the skin there. The older man continued to sleep soundly.

lt's still dark out and they've only just fallen asleep a few hours ago but Neymar couldn't fall asleep. He was too energized.

"James," Neymar whispered again, a little more furiously. Still no response. The Brazilian sighed heavily. James could sleep through the fucking apocalypse.

Neymar flopped obnoxiously back on the bed, jostling James's sleeping form, still no response. Neymar groaned.

"James wake up or I'm breaking up with you."

There was silence for a minute and then the sound of James yawning quietly from the other side of the bed. "Ney? Did you say something?" asked James sleepily, voice soft and tender.

Neymar rolls his eyes, annoyed and charmed at the same time. "Babe I can't sleep."

James rubs at his eyes. "And what do you want me to do about that?" questioned the Columbian, attempting to keep his tone light. He was horrible about being woken up.

James had given Neymar a key to his place the day after the Classico. It was agreed that prolonged time spent apart was unbearable for both of them. Neymar had accepted the key with wide eyes and a blush on his cheeks, mumbling thanks sheepishly under his breath. James had just grabbed Neymar's face and kissed the embarrassment out of him.

"I dunno, can we do something?"

"Like what?"

"I need to be stimulated."

"At..." trailed off James, glancing at the alarm clock beside him, "Four thirty two in the morning?"

"Yes."

James sighed, Neymar honestly had the energy of a two year old. "Personally, I find sleep very stimulating," supplied James, a smile forming on his lips.

Neymar stared blankly at him. James snapped his mouth shut, looking up at the ceiling.

"Well I find sleep dull and boring. C'mon let's go do something! We can sleep when we die."

"Can't we just sleep for another few hours? Then I'll get up," offered James hopefully.

"Ugh you're so boring."

"Well what do you want to do Ney?" pressed James, grouchiness taking over.

"Talk to me, take me... whatever you want," replied the Brazilian casually, as if he didn't just proposition for sex.

James was stunned silent for a moment and then chuckled to himself. He hooked both arms under Neymar's ass and hauled him close against him, the younger man's breath hitching in surprise.

"God you're insatiable. Did we not just fuck practically all day today?" asked James, nipping at the sensitive skin of Neymar's neck.

It's true. They did fuck all day today, as soon as Neymar step foot through the door James had him pinned against the wall unbuttoning his jeans and sucking at his neck. Later on Neymar had straddled him on the couch, smirking at him under his lashes and grinding deliberately down on James's crotch. During dinner, James was preparing a salad chopping vegetables and peeling greens when Neymar decided to prop himself up on the counter and spread his legs invitingly. Things obviously escalated.

"Did we? I don't remember that happening," quipped the younger man, reaching a hand beneath the sheets to cup at James's hardening member.

The Columbian groaned, tightening his grip on the globes of Neymar's ass. The supple flesh spread easily under James's fingers. The Brazilian whined as his boyfriend held him exposed, cold air pressing sharply against his entrance.

"I guess I'm just gonna have to remind you," whispered James against his lover's lips.

"Make sure I remember it this time," retorted Neymar, smirking challengingly up at him.

"I can't believe I indulge you like this," spoke James, rolling his eyes.

"Its because you're madly in love with me."

The older man smiled warmly. "Oh you think so?"

"Yes, it's so obvious."

James laughed leaning down to capture Neymar's lips with his own. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and tell me what you thought!! Love all feedback thanks so much for reading!!! ❤️


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